


Pandora's Box

by XSuicuneX



Series: The Hunted [3]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse Themes abound, Alivebur, Dream goes real Mother Gothel with a side order of Beatdown, Dumb AU's for Dumb Authors, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Ghostbur, HE LIVES!!! POG, Hybrids go brrrrr, I can't believe I forgot that, Minecraft world is weird is all you need to know, Physical Abuse, Piglin Technoblade, So sorry for the ooc there's a LOT of streams and I can't be arsed to watch all of them, The canon left me long ago so it's only semi complient, This is for The Catharsis, Villain!Dream, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, Winged Philza, dumb headcanons abound but we'll get into that eventually, more characters the more chapters I get into, only really tagging the ones that feature mainly, sbi as family, so much abuse here...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28417605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XSuicuneX/pseuds/XSuicuneX
Summary: Philza learns something that changes everything, he can no longer stand to the side and watch his sons be caught up in the powertrip.He makes a choice. It costs him a life.Wilbur thinks it's a bad idea but he lost his say when he forced Phil's sword through his chest.This is his repayment.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: The Hunted [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142399
Comments: 63
Kudos: 260





	1. Pay no attention to the Ghost holding a knife

**Author's Note:**

> HEY THERE MINECRAFT YOUTUBER FANDOM THIS IS YOUR AUNTY SUICUNE HERE WITH A BRAND NEW FIC THAT I MAY OR MAY NOT FINISH HOPE YOU ENJOY!
> 
> I have everything planned out and a good chunk of chapters written so the chances of it being completed is higher than normal. YwY I just wanted this scenario (even if it'll never be canon.)

The icy bite of the wind ripped it’s way through Philza’s cloak, his wings held close to the fur insulation, fluffed against the chill. The snowy biome his sons had taken shelter in was in the throes of a blizzard, making it convenient for his plans. He could see the warm light that depicted Techno’s house in the distance, it wouldn’t be long before he and his other son arrived.

He’d been accommodating, knowing his sons’ penchant to sticking to their guns and the tenuous environment he’d stumbled upon in the server. He’d held back, staying in the shadows harmless and passive and waiting on the moment Techno called on his aide. But some lines were too far and he’d be _damned_ if he allowed his children to stand in the crossfire again.

Behind him stood Wilbur, an Ivory pale tint to his skin, his arms clinging to his yellow sweater, hand curled over the dirty brown patch in the center of his chest. He was humming to himself, idly, a new tune that Phil didn’t recognize, and he’d have wondered if it was the beginnings of a new song if he didn’t know better.

“Tommy’s finally finished his tower.” Wilbur noted, drawing his father’s attention to the cobblestone monstrosity. Phil grimaced, but couldn’t help but smile.

“Poor Techno.” He commented, causing both men to chuckle as they came up to said Piglin’s door, Phil gently knocking on the wood.

Loud crashing and muffled arguments sounded behind the door. Philza turned to see his son scowl, hand lifting to run through his hair before sighing. “He’s _really_ bad at hiding.”

He gave a soft laugh in response, then turned back as the door opened, showing his eldest.

The hybrid’s eyes widened a moment before squinting, almost pouting. “Philza what the fuck.” He griped, monotone voice holding a strain of annoyance. “I thought you were under house arrest?”

Philza gave a rueful grin. “I said I’d made a contraption, didn’t I?” Then his arms and shoulders slumped, his wings spreading unconsciously behind him. “And I’d have stayed under house arrest if I hadn’t overheard what I did. Grab Tommy, we’re leaving.”

“Uh. Okay.” Techno would be the easiest to convince, though his penchant for violence and his thirst for revenge demanded retribution, Philza knew he’d follow his lead on the rare and elusive times he chose to exert it. “Can I ask why?”

“Dream’s planning something.” He explained, voice low and soft, the wind hopefully masking his words from those outside his circle. “Something extreme.” He looked away, a flicker of pain flashing across his features.

“Huh.” Techno breathed, casually and without inflection. “Must be something serious if you’d rather run. Still, good luck convincin’ Tommy to leave, he’s tangled up in too much here.”

Philza sighed, shoulders slumping again. “I know, I’m hoping to talk to him first. Where is-?”

“Hello!” A voice cut through to the three, causing all to turn as one to face a familiar hooded green admin. Philza stiffened, hand going to the sword strapped to his side.

Slowly Dream walked up to the family, terracotta mask hiding his features, singular soulless grin the only thing meeting them. “Nice to see you outside Philza.” The admin commented, voice carefree and light, though his hand rested atop the handle of his ax.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Dream?” Techno drawled, just as casual, his arms crossing and his much larger body leaning against the post of his door. He eyed the warrior warily, peering from beneath lazy eyelids. “Not that I’m surprised, since you’ve been bargin’ into my house every day for the last week.” He grumbled.

Dream chuckled, low in his throat, and Philza knew that something’d shifted in the Admin. It was a difference in stance, in the way Techno’s shoulders tensed. “You _know_ why I’m here Technoblade.” Dream drawled, and Phil cursed the mask covering his face.

Not to undermine Techno’s authority, but to protect his sons Philza stepped forward, wings spreading out, his face tilted down to dramatically shadow his eyes. Behind him he felt his two sons close ranks, all three bodies blocking the entrance to Techno’s house. The action was seamless and automatic, and brought Phil back to days alone in hostile worlds, with mobs of players holding swords, torches, desperation and greed, where there weren’t multiple chances or soft resets to rely on.

Dream hesitated a moment, just a moment, then chuckled before hefting his ax into his hand, onto his shoulder. “This’ new.” He commented, voice still idle.

“We’re leaving Dream.” Philza replied, voice like steel.

Dream only scoffed, before lifting his hand towards his eldest. “And what do your kids say to that? I’m sure at least two of them want to stay behind. Techno still owes me, don’t you Techno?”

Philza felt his son stiffen behind him, but he stood firm. “That doesn’t matter. I know what you plan.” Dream’s mask slipped just the slightest amount, showing a wide, curling grin. Philza narrowed his eyes. “You’re overstepping.”

To that Dream laughed again, a full belly laugh that made his shoulders shake. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted his stance. “Do you _really_ think you can stop me Phil?” He asked, the smile behind his mask growing. “You might’ve hacked in, but you don’t control everything here. _I_ do.”

“What do you even want Tommy for anyway?” Techno huffed behind Philza’s right shoulder. His eldest held a pickaxe like a weapon in his hands, his tight grip at odds with the lazy drawl of his voice. “He’ll give you just as much trouble as you’re getting from us now, tryin’ to catch him.”

Dream hummed, shifting his grip on his ax, that smile of his never faltering. “Good question…” He trailed off, then before he could say anything else he froze. Like a predator alerted his gaze turned to the side, and the rapid crunching of snow caught all of their attention, before the swoosh of a pearl cut through the air.

Dream booked it, and with a sharp curse Philza dashed after him. He could feel his sons following, with Technoblade keeping to his side-he didn’t know why Tommy had chosen to flee the safety of the cabin, didn’t know why he hadn’t snuck away silently instead of alerting Dream to his escape, those were questions he’d have to ask when he caught up to him.

When. Not ‘if,’ because Philza refused to lose another son again.

He might not get a second chance this time.

```

Wilbur found himself surrounded on an island of spruce trees when he managed to catch up with Dream.

It was a bitter irony, he thought to himself, that the one time a solid grasp of combat was actually needed was the one time he was the only one available.

_‘We don’t need you for fighting, we need your mind.’_

Dream ignored him, for surely he’d spotted his yellow sweater long before Wilbur’d spotted Dream. Instead his gaze and attention fixed upon the surrounding forests, his ears honed in on the sounds of a scrambling boy terrified and in hiding.

Wilbur put on a vapid smile as he strode up to the admin, even while his guts twisted. “Why are you looking so hard for Tommy, Dream?” He asked, his voice light and airy, carefree.

Dream barely spared him a glance. “Tommy needs to come home Ghostbur.” He replied, hand tight around his ax. “He’s being punished, he can’t just leave that punishment and expect to get away with it.”

Wilbur swallowed acid and kept his smile on his face, humming in acknowledgement. He looked around with Dream, carefully sliding his eyes along a bit of underbrush. “Do you think he went back to Logstedshire?” He asked the admin. “Maybe he thought you wouldn’t look for him there.”

Dream tensed for a moment, then gave a huff of his own, lifting his ax on his shoulder once again. “Y’know what? That’s a good suggestion, I can see Tommy doing something cliché’d like that. Thanks.” And with that the admin clapped a firm hand onto Wilbur’s shoulder, gripping it tight for a moment before he headed off through the woods and back in the direction of the ruined campsite.

Wilbur waited a moment. Then he waited another. And another. Until he could no longer hear the steps from the green admin in the distance. Until he felt it was safe.

“He’s gone Tommy.”

Suddenly a blond head popped up from the underbrush, Tommy’s visibility pooling frustration in his stomach. However he didn’t comment, not since he saw the wary panic in the boy’s eyes. “Thanks Ghostbur.” The teenager said, before brushing his clothes free of dust and snow. He stood, then bounded over towards his older brother. “I thought he was gonna get through Phil and Techno for a moment.” He admitted.

Wilbur sent a message to his father via his communicator as he and Tommy headed back to the cabin, though he doubted they’d be staying there after this. “Why didn’t you drink an invisibility potion before running?” He asked.

Tommy frowned, looked away. “…I didn’t know the one I’d drank first was running out.”

Wilbur kept himself from sighing out of sheer will, instead humming in response, his hands clasped behind his back. “Maybe next time you should bring a spare, just in case.” He offered, before walking ahead a bit faster. He said nothing more after that, ignoring the confused looks Tommy was giving him.

When they got to the cabin they had to wait around a bit for Philza and Techno to come back, time that Wilbur’d spent checking Tommy for injuries and helping him to pack (or rather, packing for him.) Wilbur took the opportunity to pilfer from Techno’s stores of items-he probably didn’t need them anymore since they were leaving the server. Items weren’t easy to bring across server lines, so it was just best to cut one’s losses when moving worlds.

When Philza showed up he wrapped both Wilbur and Tommy tight in his arms and wings, which Tommy protested to weakly.

“So, what’s the plan?” Techno asked, giving Wilbur the stink eye when he spotted him sneaking a few golden apples into a sack. “He’s gonna come back soon most likely.”

Philza frowned, letting Wilbur go but keeping a wing around Tommy. “I need a few days to get through the code, ‘specially since we can’t likely get to spawn without being impeded. We need to hide in the meantime.”

Techno frowned, then shifted awkwardly, his brows furrowed from behind his specs. “Philza, I’ve still got a debt.” He rumbled, looking away. “That’s leverage Dream’s got on me.”

“And Tubbo…” Tommy added, voice strained as he held a compass tight in his hands. The needle pointed steadily in one direction, only shifting the most miniscule amounts, what with the distance between them. “I can’t just _leave_ him.”

Philza sighed, before turning Tommy to face him. “There’s going to be another war soon Tommy.” He admitted, voice strained. “Dream’s never forgiven L’manburg for rebelling against him in the first place.” He reached up a hand, gently cupping one of Tommy’s cheeks. “I don’t want you caught up in another conflict. You’ve gone through too many already.”

Tommy shoved himself out of his father’s arms, a scowl on his face. “Oh, sure, _now_ you care. My being in a war didn’t catch your attention before, what’s so different this time?” He bit out, bitterly.

Philza didn’t fight his son, a pained expression on his face. “You had Wilbur last time Toms.” He said, while Wilbur winced behind him. “I thought…” Then his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “No matter, admin’s like Dream are why we avoid worlds like this, I thought you’d be safe after what I taught you, but I don’t think anything can keep you safe from what he’s planned.”

Tommy glared. “Safe from _what_ , Philza? He’s done plenty enough as is. What’s he got that’s making you act like a mother hen all of a sudden?”

Philza’s wings folded tight to his back, the firelight from Techno’s furnace etching deeper lines into his features. “A cage.” He responded, somber. “A cage who’s construction even I can’t break. No mining, guards patrolling at all hours, redstone to warn them, no sun and no friends, just you and four black walls for as long as Dream wants.” He looked down at his hands, clenching them at his waist. “He plans to lock you up and throw away the key. You’d surely break.”

Tommy’s expression fell, and he took a stumbling step back, shaking his head in denial. “No-Dream wouldn’t- he wouldn’t do that to me….” He look up at his father again, eyes suddenly lost. “Would he….? He’s my-he said he cared…”

“If he actually cares he has a weird way of showing it.” Technoblade drawled, giving Tommy a squint. “Isn’t he the guy that got you tossed out to rot in the first place?”

Wilbur, unable to watch the results of Dream’s mind fuckery anymore stepped forward, his hands carefully taking Tommy’s as he gave him a big bright grin. “Why don’t we stop talking about this, yeah? Dad says we need to go into hiding, do you know what that means Tommy?”

Tommy furrowed his brows, his eyes going from their joined hands back to Wilbur’s face. “…More mud huts and sadness?” He answered dubiously.

Wilbur laughed in response, far more sincere than Dream had. “No! Well-maybe at first depending on how long Philza takes to find a spot, but no! No, it means we get to _build_ Tommy!” He squeezed his brother’s hands, even with Tommy’s growth spurt his were much larger than the teenagers. “We can try out some of those building tips I gave you!”

“Oh, please no.” Philza groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. He kept his eyes carefully on his sons, brows furrowed. “It’ll take a couple weeks to get through the firewalls Dream’s got, but even so I don’t want my eyes assaulted during that time.”

Wilbur turned his bright smile to his father. “Oh don’t worry dad, I’ll make sure it looks moderately decent.”

“Oh thanks.” Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Way to make me feel confident in my building _Ghostbur_.” Then he laughed, with Techno joining in before starting to heckle Tommy. For a moment Wilbur met his father’s eyes, and a strained, tense silence hung between them.

Then Philza turned away and started helping Tommy pack.

```

They decided that Wilbur, Philza and Tommy would all hide somewhere in the wilderness, far enough away from Techno’s hut that Dream wouldn’t likely find them, but close enough so they could keep in contact. Techno was in an awkward position, he was fine with leaving the server with his family (and all the baggage accumulated on it) but he didn’t like the idea of owing an Admin a favor, least of all one as cruel and _intense_ as Dream. They all knew what Dream’d do if given the chance, so leaving it be wasn’t an option.

“Just find a way to pay off your debt.” Philza had said. “After that we’re leaving and not looking back.”

Tommy had remained uncharacteristically silent, his eyes on the compass. It worried Wilbur, who knew his littler brother’s habits forward and back. Even after all that’d occurred, Tommy was loyal to a fault. Tubbo was his friend and he would never abandon him, even if it was _his_ life that was slowly getting ruined.

Wilbur scowled over the dinner he was preparing, a bit of rabbit stew from the conies Tommy’d shot down on the way to their cave. They’d picked one where the entrance was absolutely covered in snow, something Tommy and Wilbur had found while gathering supplies for Tommy’s house building experiments. Wilbur’d fell into it at least three times before they’d marked it out with some piled dirt.

Wilbur paused in the middle of chopping some carrots, his eyes settling on nerveless fingers, the tips numbed from the cold. He curled them into fists, feeling his skin growing taut over bone, flesh and sinew tensing. He was hyper aware of every movement of his body, of the air rushing in and out of his lungs, of the thoughts swirling circles in his head, memories, emotions, painful things he could no longer toss away.

He heard a step behind him, a distinct sound of sandal on stone and grit his teeth in frustration.

“This is a _terrible_ idea Philza.” He growled, his voice no longer light, no longer carefree. Instead it was harsh, cold as the air outside the cave and bitter as the thoughts that danced with his memories.

His father let out a weary sigh, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do about it now Wilbur. It’s done, and I’m not sorry.” The hand squeezed. “We need you.”

Wilbur slumped down onto the makeshift spruce counter, his hand covering his face. “He’s going to find out.” He strained, voice muffled by his palm. “He’s going to find out and then it’ll get _worse_ -I should’ve stayed dead.”

“Would it really be better if you’d remained a ghost?” His father asked, hand rubbing circles into his back.

“ _Yes_!” Wilbur spun, eyes wide and wild as he faced his father, the parental figure who’d taken him in when he’d lost his village to a zombie swarm, the man that’d raised him alongside an outcast Piglin hybrid and called them _brothers_. “At least I wouldn’t be hurting anyone!” He stepped forward. “At least you wouldn’t have to deal with _my_ baggage on top of the bullshit _Tommy’s_ got!”

Philza stood still, patient and kind just as he’d always been, and if a little extra sadness was edged around his face, at least he had one joy to temper it now. “Wil, I said it before. You were half of yourself as a ghost, a broken picture with all the important bits ripped out. We need you whole, we need _Wilbur_ , not his shade, not his ghost.”

“The last time I was whole it ended up in flames.” Wilbur scoffed, a hand lifting to cover half of his face. “At least as a ghost I wasn’t hurting the people I loved.” He shut his eyes. “At least then they were _safe_ from me.”

He leaned against the counter, heard his father take a few steps forward, felt the warmth of silvery patterned feathers on either side, felt hands resting gently on his shoulders. “They were still hurt by you.” Philza’s voice was soft, apologetic. “Throwing away your memories did absolutely nothing but keep them from having any sort of closure. You were just running _away_ Wilbur.”

Wilbur winced, rubbing his face as he slouched. “At least my memories were doing something useful. Helping them with their sadness, leaching it away…“ Then he slumped forward. “But Dream had to make more, more than I could drain, why didn’t I _do_ anything during the Exile? Why did Ghostbur have to trust _Dream_ of all people…….?” He dropped his hand and glared off to the side.

“I can’t pretend to know what your shade was thinking.” Philza sighed, giving Wilbur an encouraging squeeze. “Except perhaps to guess that your spirit wanted to see the good in the people around you, maybe to make up for your living self’s paranoia.” He chuckled. “It’s unfortunate that your excellent judge of character didn’t carry over in death.”

“It probably died along with my sanity.” Wilbur grumbled, his lips curling into a wry smile. “I _knew_ Dream was terrible the moment I laid eyes on him, knew I had to protect Fundy and Tommy from him, but who did I end up trusting when everyone around me became untrustable?” He gave a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “ _Fuck_ Eret.”

“You know, one of these days I’m going to have to hear the story of what poor Eret did to deserve this treatment.” Philza’s amusement could be heard in his voice. “I thought we were talking about Dream and the shit he pulled on the both of you.”

Wilbur’s smile suddenly fell, and he scowled. “What _didn’t_ he pull, is more the question.” He growled. “Especially to Tommy-did you see how confused he got when you mentioned the prison?”

Wilbur looked up to see Philza gazing towards the back of the cave, Tommy’d carved out his own room and bundled up in the very back, making a nest of blankets and furs that Phil’d brought along in his supplies.

“He’s thinner than I remember.” His father said, deep frown on his face. “I didn’t notice when I visited before.”

“It was difficult to get him to eat anything, even at the start of his exile.” Wilbur admitted softly, remembering those hazy days as if through a fog, but clear all the same. Ghostbur had been like a happy dream to him, one in which he saw atrocities and betrayal, but without any form of emotional attachment. He’d been an observer, with only the most distant of ties holding him to the world, his memories slipping though his fingers like sand through a sieve, turning blue as they soaked up the surrounding pain.

“He’s not going to leave willingly dad.” Wilbur murmured, his gaze turned towards Tommy’s cave, his heart aching in his chest. “Even after everything, he still loves Tubbo. If Dream’s dangerous to him he’s dangerous to his friend.”

Philza gave him one last squeeze before stepping away, his smile sad and resigned when Wilbur glanced back at him. “I know. He’s stubborn like that. Maybe we can find a way to reconcile the two of them and Tubbo can come with us.”

Wilbur gave a tired huff, but the smile was back on his face. “Stubborn. Yeah, I suppose we’re all a bit like that. Stubborn and Loyal as anything.” His smile grew wistful, he wasn’t that loyal in the end unfortunately.

He felt Philza’s hand on his shoulder again, and he looked up to meet the wing’d man’s encouraging smile. “We’ll be okay Wilbur. You’ll see.”

He deflated, too tired to keep up the argument. “Yeah, okay dad.” He said, looking away, a bone aching weariness weighing him down. He glanced back to Tommy’s nest, guilt eating away at his chest before he shoved it and himself away from the counter. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed early. Make sure Toms gets some of that stew into him, yeah?” He said, before heading over to his own designated sleeping nest.

“Alright son.” Came the quiet reply. There might’ve been more, maybe even an ‘I’m glad you’re back’ or ‘I love you’ but if so, Wilbur missed it as the moment he laid in his makeshift nest he fell asleep immediately.

It was exhausting after all, coming back from the dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur lives go Brrrr


	2. He's a problem (not my problem)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags are hard. So's pretending to be dead. One of us'll get the hang of it. Maybe.

The next few days were spent building up the cave into something livable while they waited both for Philza to crack the code on Dream’s firewalls and for Techno to find a way out of his debt. Tommy was shockingly cooperative during the entire span, which only made Wilbur’s metaphorical hackles raise. It was only a matter of time.

It was due to that that Wilbur often found himself sharing chores with Tommy whenever the teenager went out, which at the moment was gathering spruce logs to help Philza with the interior decorating. Wilbur tried to keep the atmosphere upbeat, joking with Tommy like he’d done both as a spirit and before everything went to hell, but he could tell Tommy’s heart wasn’t entirely in it. The boy seemed to be putting all his energy into chopping down the trees with as few swings as possible, his hair sticking to his head with sweat despite the snow and ice on the ground.

“Tommy, I think that’s enough logs.” Wilbur suggested after it looked like the kid was about to hurt himself. “Why don’t we go back insi-“

A flash of green in the distance, bright and florescent, a shade that stood out painfully against the darker green of the spruce leaves.

Wilbur didn’t even think, he dashed to tackle his brother into the underbrush, his large and lanky body squishing the teenager into the long grass under the hanging branches. “Wilbur-mph!” Tommy’s complaints got cut off with Wilbur’s hand over his mouth, a harshly whispered “Hush” following it.

Tommy stilled, it was automatic, and it brought with it many, many memories of similar situations, of wars and worlds even more hostile, enemies on all sides and absolute instinctive trust being all that saved them.

Tommy stilled, and Wilbur heard the closing in of footsteps getting nearer, hardly daring to breath.

“Who’s there?” Dream’s voice cut through the wind, and Wilbur mentally cursed, of course the hunter spotted them, of _course_.

The sound of a sword sliding from it’s sheath prompted him to pop his head out from cover, giving Tommy one last squeeze to keep him quiet. “Oh! Hello Dream, I didn’t see you there!” He greeted, before standing and carefully walking towards the admin like he hadn’t just brick tackled a fugitive into hiding. “How can I help you?”

Dream snorted, then jabbed his sword in Wilbur’s direction, the tip of the blade lining up with a particular scar that rested on his chest. “You can _help_ by telling me where Tommy is.” He ordered. “I know he’s nearby, Technoblade and Philza can’t hide him from me forever.”

“Well, I certainly don’t know.” Wilbur rambled, and thankfully his ability to lie had returned along with his life, not a bit of his expression would give away his little brother. “Did you try over in L’manburg? Maybe he fled there.”

“Hmmmm….” Dream hummed to himself, before slowly starting to circle around Wilbur, like a creep. “Perhaps, though there is something else I’ve been wondering about. I’ve noticed you haven’t been giving out any blue.”

Wilbur tensed, but quickly calmed himself, keeping his oblivious smile on. “Oh, well, I’ve run out you see. Don’t know why, but if you need some I’m sure I could find it for you!” A lie of course, but Dream didn’t need to know that.

“You know, I was reading the code from a few nights ago, funny thing happened.” Dream said, while Wilbur’s guts twisted. “It almost looked like two accounts merged, you Wilbur, you even _vanished_ on me for a bit. I wonder…”

Dream paused, sword back aligned with Wilbur’s scar, smirk in his voice.

“Philza actually did it, didn’t he? He brought you back.”

Wilbur swallowed, his smile frozen on his face, suddenly acutely aware of the hidden child behind him and his lack of stealth in emotional moments. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Dream. What did Philza do?” He bluffed, a desperate bid at playing dumb.

Dream scoffed and took a step forward, leading with his sword. Wilbur stepped back in reaction, hand over the scar. “Don’t pull that shit on me Wilbur.” Dream chuckled. “You know better than to drag on an _act_.”

Wilbur debated continuing the charade, but gave up just a moment later. He sighed, and like a switch his smile fell, the hand over his heart curling into a fist. “Fine.” He said, his voice back to it’s normal timbre. “You caught me.”

Dream snorted, his stance almost eager as he kept his sword pointed at him. “Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur.” He teased, voice in a sing song tone. “It’s been so long! How _are_ you? Are you happy with how things turned out? Are you proud of what your country’s been doing? I know I am.”

Wilbur scoffed, eyeing Dream’s sword in annoyance. “L’manburg couldn’t do anything I could be proud of, least of all if it’s something _you’d_ like. I built it to rebel against you in the first place.” He turned the sword away before his angry eyes met Dream’s mask. “I gave up on it long ago. My family is all I care about now.”

“Figures.” Dream sighed, before sheathing his sword and stretching. “Y’know Wilbur, believe it or not I care about your family too.”

“Bullshit.” Wilbur spat, eyes narrowing at the admin.

“It’s true!” Dream answered. “You and I both know Tommy’s a ticking time bomb even on the best days. He never listens, never behaves, you got more than enough headaches dealing with him if I recall.”

Wilbur scowled. “Tommy is….” Loud, abrasive, energetic, full of life. “Difficult. I will admit.” Then he fixed Dream with a glare. “But what teenager isn’t?”

“He needs to grow up.” Dream said, voice suddenly hard. His arms fell to his sides as he faced Wilbur with what could only be a glare. “He needs to learn, it’s past time. I’m sorry Wilbur, but if your brother wants to lead a country he needs to be taught a few lessons.”

Wilbur felt a cold chill settle in his chest, anger locking his jaw. “And you think you’re the one to teach him?” He asked, ice in his chest seeping into his breath. “By hurting him? Isolating him? _Lying_ to him?” With every word his voice grew into a snarl, his feet stepping forward as he advanced on the admin. “I remember _exactly_ what you called _teaching_.”

Dream didn’t cower, Dream didn’t move at all, instead he simply tilted his head to the side, curiously observant and detached. “You don’t really have a right to judge Wilbur.” He chuckled, hand resting on his ax. “I heard about what happened in Pogtopia.”

He flinched, damn the man, he couldn’t even deny it. He clenched his fists, breathing deep and trying to stay calm. He wasn’t a match for Dream, no matter how he wished otherwise. “That was different.” Was it? He wondered sometimes, late at night where he couldn’t sleep. “I did what I did to _protect_ Tommy.”

“And I’m doing the same thing, but with one key difference.” Dream leaned forward, his mask only a few inches from Wilbur’s face. “I’m protecting Tommy from _himself_.”

“He doesn’t need that sort of protection.” Wilbur growled, glaring death into that stupid mask, teeth grit and fire melting the ice in his chest. If he had the tools and the time and didn’t have two lives tied to his he’d find a way to make Dream and everyone he cared about **burn**. The siren song of arson never sounded so sweet.

Dream chuckled, pulling back from his face. “Sure Wilbur, whatever you say. You’re _completely_ unbiased.” Then he paused, giving Wilbur a slow look over. “Speaking of bias…I can’t help but wonder if Tommy wouldn’t be coaxed out of his rat hole for his equally criminal older brother.”

Wilbur crossed his arms, giving an unimpressed stare. “If you recall I betrayed Tommy, and you couldn’t hurt me in a way that mattered while I was a spirit. Alive _or_ dead he wouldn’t be stupid enough to be lured out for my sake.” Painfully true, but a truth he was counting on, so long as it kept his baby brother out of Dream’s claws.

With another chuckle Dream shrugged, conceding. “True enough. It was just a thought. Just remember Wilbur, it’s only a matter of time until I get him. I know he’s hiding somewhere around here.”

“Well you won’t be getting any help from _me_ , that’s for certain.” Wilbur scoffed. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else you can bother with your menacing creepiness? Go on, shoo.” He made a dismissive motion with his hand, before turning his back to the Admin.

Dream just laughed. “Alright Wilbur, glad to see you back to your old self.” And with that taunting remark he heard Dream turn, his steps crunching through the snow as he walked away.

He waited a moment. Then another. And another. Until he couldn’t hear Dream’s footsteps anymore.

“Tommy.” He said when he finally deemed it safe. To his surprise the boy had listened, as he poked his head out from roughly the same area that Wilbur’d originally tackled him into. However that relief was short lived, as when he met his brother’s eyes the hurt and pain in his expression served to break his heart.

“How long?” Tommy asked, his voice hoarse, hitched with emotion, his arms tense at his sides.

“A few days before Phil suggested his plan.” Wilbur answered softly, anxiety pooling in his stomach. He took a step forward. “Tommy-“

Tommy turned, fled from his outstretched hand and dashed into the woods, anger making his steps heavy and loud. He hoped Techno wasn’t out hunting in that direction.

“Tommy!” With a muffled curse Wilbur chased after his brother, his eyes scanning the horizon not just for yellow and red, but for lime green-Dream couldn’t be far enough away just yet.

With the crashing of twigs and crunching of leaves Tommy kept running, the lashing branches doing little to slow him down. Tommy had always been good at running, fortunately Wilbur was just as good, a fortune that’d helped them both the first time their country kicked them to the curb. Eventually he managed to corner Tommy up against a cliff, in a clearing surrounded by evergreens. He paused, catching his breath, his chest burning from the exertion he hadn’t needed to do in over a year.

“Tommy, Dream’s still _out_ there.” He warned, frustrated and worried. He kept glancing at the horizon, what little he could see, searching for green. “Do you _want_ to be caught?”

Tommy’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, his shorter form trembling with emotion. “What does it matter?” He growled, voice low. Then he turned, snarling and shocking Wilbur into backing up. “What does it _fucking_ matter if I get caught when I’ve got _two_ of you assholes to deal with?!”

Wilbur raised his hands, defensively, placatingly, he wasn’t sure which. “It matters if you’re going to fucking _die_.” He frowned, his heart clenching at the hate marring his baby brother’s face. _What had he done?_ “You can be angry at me and Phil all you want but _please_ take into account your own safety for once in your life.”

“Oh, _now_ you care about my life? Now you care?” Tommy scoffed, before gesturing with his hands spread out. “You didn’t care back when you had all that tnt! Not when you made me president, you-you threw me to the _dogs_ Wilbur!” Tommy jabbed a finger towards Wilbur’s chest, mimicking Dream’s sword. “You were always gonna press that fucking button. And when you knew _full well_ where I’d be standing! You tossed me out like _trash_! At least Dream said he was my friend!” Tommy’s face fell, his whole body curling in on itself, his hands clenching protectively in front of his chest. “He…said he was my friend. He _said_ …!”

And there it was, spelled plainly in the shattered expression on his brother’s face. Nothing he could say would make up for his actions, and truthfully…he _wasn’t_ sorry. Wilbur didn’t feel remorse for trying to destroy L’manburg, he knew he wasn’t wrong. How was he, when that same country tossed his brother out the door just as soon as they’d thanked him? How could he, when he saw that same hunger for power and willingness to do whatever it took to get it in the new president and his cabinet? How could he, when he saw what his choice, last minute as it’d been, was doing to _Tubbo_?

Wilbur wasn’t sorry for throwing away his symphony, he just wished…

“Tommy….” He began, a hand halfheartedly reaching out for the blond. “Dream’s lying to you. He doesn’t want to be your friend, he just wants to control you. I wish I knew why…”

Tommy’s face twisted up into a grimace, and he glared bitterly at his brother. “This is a fucking familiar scene isn’t it?” He grumbled, eyes narrow. “What’s next, rambling about how Dream’ll eventually betray us too?”

Wilbur didn’t flinch, though he got the message clear enough. His fingers curled into his palm. “Dream isn’t going to betray us.” He sighed. “Dream was never on our side to begin with. Never has been. Tommy…” He looked down at his hand, his brows furrowing. “Words…can’t make up for what I’ve done. Nothing I say will ever excuse my actions, I just-“ He glanced up again, spotting Tommy doing the same. So much emotion held in those blue eyes, anger, pain, fear… Wilbur shut his own to avoid it. “I just want you _safe_ Tommy. That’s all I ever wanted, even if I went about it in the worst way.”

A moment stretched painfully between them, time suspended in what seemed to be an eternity of heartbeats. Then Tommy finally spoke. “I don’t think blowing up the ground under my feet fits the definition of ‘safe’ Wil. Dream’s right.” Wilbur opened his eyes to see Tommy start to walk away, face purposefully turned form his.

“You’ve got no fucking room to judge.”

Words sharp as a diamond sword shoved straight through his chest, but Wilbur shut his eyes and took a deep breath, this was no more than he deserved. After a moment he was composed, and turned to follow after his brother, grateful at least that he’d chosen to go back to their hidden cavern, silent as he was.

Philza met them at the entrance, but Tommy barged straight on past him, his cloak thrown against the cave wall before he crawled into his little den, the sounds of dirt being shoveled sounding soon after.

Phil looked at Wilbur in confusion, who just slumped in response. “He knows.” He said, not bothering to note the expression on his father’s face. “I told you this was a terrible idea.” He reiterated, just to prove a point.

Phil’s hand rested on his shoulder again. “You hurt him bad Wil.” His father said, as if he needed the reminder. “That sort of thing can’t just be forgiven overnight.”

“Maybe I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Wilbur spat, a hand running through his hair in frustration. “There’s nothing I can say to make it up to him, I’m not even _sorry_. I don’t regret blowing up L’manburg, I wish it’d never been built.”

“If you’re not sorry about L’manburg, then what are you sorry for?” Philza asked gently. “I know you’re sorry for _something_ , a man without regret wouldn’t have begged me for death.”

Wilbur swallowed, his eyes trained on Tommy’s corner, the sounds of dirt being scraped away growing quieter with distance. He was running. “ _He was supposed to be okay._ ” Wilbur whispered, lump heavy in his throat. “He was-he had friends Phil. Friends and people who loved him. I never thought-I wanted the country _gone_ , and now it’s hurt him.” He took in a shuddering breath, turned to look at his palms. “I’ve messed everything up so badly, there’s no way I could ever make it right. You shouldn’t have brought me back.”

With a sigh Philza gave his shoulder a firm pat. “You’ll never fix anything by running away from your problems.” He answered simply, before letting Wilbur go and heading back to his building. “Give it time Wilbur, you’re smart, you’ll think of something.” He added.

Wilbur shook his head, groaning before going to help. He wished he had Phil’s confidence, wished even more that he’d done things different, that he’d never done some things in the first place.

He wished…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies can't make up for nearly blowing your family up WILBUR.


	3. Is that a Mirror, Penance or an Omen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we get a victory lap for everyone's Wilbur Resurrection fics? I can't believe we predicted this moment. I'm terrified. 
> 
> So sorry for taking a bit but I've almost got it all written out. I have problems with feeling self conscious and hating my work despite knowing that I'm actually p. dang good at this and that I'll get better by doing it more. Bah artistic sensibilities. 
> 
> I still need to get those damn tags right. :/

The next few days went about as well as could be expected, what with the current tension in the air. Tommy, naturally, avoided anything to do with Wilbur. At least he listened enough to keep an eye out for Dream, though Wilbur’s heart would’ve felt much better if he’d stayed inside.

Alas, this was Tommy, and that wasn’t going to happen.

He tried to give him space, tried very hard to be mindful of the lingering trauma his presence would undoubtably bring, but whenever he heard a telltale sound from Tommy’s tunnel (he’d expanded his bedroom) he couldn’t help but check in. His little brother suffered from nightmares, tossing and turning and pleading, sometimes with Dream, sometimes with him, and he honestly didn’t know which was worse. All Wilbur could do was sit gingerly on the side of his bed and try to comfort him, slowly petting his hair and singing softly. Memories of doing the same when Tommy was small bombarded him, but he tried not to be caught in the act, tried not to let nostalgia lure him into being too comfortable and lingering.

It was almost a relief when Technoblade came by, both to check in and to inform Philza that he’d found a way to settle his debt with Dream. “He’s letting me off the hook if I’ll get him info on what they’re doing in L’manburg.” Techno reported, after being fussed over by Phil and checking in with Tommy (Tommy’d actually managed to cheer up, as evidenced by their bickering.) “Dunno why he’s asking _me_ to do it when he can just, like, walk into the country himself, but whatever. ‘Least he’s not trying to get me to sell out family anymore.” Techno huffed, not looking at any of them as he said that last bit, he was a big softy like that.

Seeing an opportunity Wilbur quickly offered to go along on recon, after all _he_ could walk the streets openly since nobody knew he was alive.

When Techno found out Wilbur was alive (because it made no sense for him not to at this point) he’d only looked mildly uncomfortable, but welcomed his brother back easily enough.

Then again, it hadn’t been _Techno_ that Wilbur had hurt.

The trip to L’manburg was…a little awkward at first. To be fair the topic of sudden resurrection wasn’t normally brought up, and Techno wasn’t the best with people on a _good_ day.

“So, uh…” His brother began, carefully not looking at him. “How’s life?”

A beat, then Wilbur burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “Are you kidding?” He asked, half exasperated. “Of all the things you could’ve said _that’s_ the question you come up with?”

The piglin gave a slight smile in response, his eyes peeking at Wilbur from the side. “It’s a perfectly valid question.” He replied. “It’s not everyday you get to ask somebody how being alive is as opposed to being dead.”

He had to give him that. “Well, I can’t speak for anyone else but I will say that I think I preferred the latter experience.” Did he though? Forgetting wasn’t the most pleasant, nor was seeing the strained looks his friends gave him, the pitying ones, the angry ones, all for something he couldn’t really control.

And then there were other moments, moments that were especially painful, even when he was a blissfully ignorant ghost. Arguments he wished he’d done better, situations he wished he could fix, but he wasn’t sure if that was how Ghostbur felt or _Wilbur_ …

The silence had stretched on uncomfortably, with Techno clearly uncertain how to address that response, so Wilbur changed the subject. “What sort of information are you looking for anyway?” He asked his brother.

Techno huffed, though his shoulders relaxed at the topic change. “Y’know, I’m not really sure.” He wondered. “Kinda feels like a waist of a favor when he can just intimidate or blackmail whatever info he wants.”

Wilbur hummed in thought. “Maybe he’s looking for weaknesses he can exploit later, or maybe he wants you busy.”

“Ether way I’m just glad he’s not asking me to rat out family anymore.” Techno sighed, he looked tired. “We’ll be out of this game soon, though I’ll admit I wouldn’t mind giving L’manburg trouble before I leave, what with them trying to kill me and all. Still, if Dream wants to waist his one wish it’s no skin off my back.”

Wilbur chuckled, he was relieved as well, though he was also worried. Dream was not an easy man to predict, he’d had more than enough experience with that during the wars. “We should be coming up on smp lands soon.” He pointed out, soon as he started to notice manmade structures in the distance. “We should split up so you can sneak in, I’ll meet you inside.”

Techno was already in the process of pulling out a potion. “Way ahead of you, see ya Wilbur.” And with that the Piglin downed the liquid and vanished, sounds of his footsteps walking away the only sign of his location.

Wilbur slipped his hands into his pockets and started walking as well, whistling and acting like a careless ghost.

The trip to L’manburg was uneventful, Wilbur noted that not much had changed in the SMP, though he couldn’t help but pause at the border.

So many memories in his brain, the park, the lack of walls, even his van which he could easily see from his position. Everything came at him in a rush, and it’s all he could do to shut his eyes and breath deep, trying to ride the wave.

It took some doing, but he finally managed to take a step forward. Then another, and another, until he heard the telltale sound of planks under his feet signaling him coming into the town proper.

L’manburg was a city of planks and water, a tiny lake covering the final sins of it’s creator, buildings crafted by his hand hiding the very real gravesite that they rested upon.

The more Wilbur looked at it the more ill he became. He glanced up at a sound, spotted Niki in the distance by her bakery, saw a telltale splash of rusty fur, his throat tightening at the sight of his son. So much work, and all of it a sham, a twisted lie of what it should’ve been.

He wished he’d never _tried_ to rebel.

With a deep breath Wilbur turned from the sight, unwilling or unable to face his friends even under the comfortable lie of being his cheerful shade. He didn’t know if he could keep up the act, so he opted to gather information the old fashioned way.

Eavesdropping and reading the room.

Of course, the ‘room’ was looking rather colorful at the moment, there were decorations, lights and streamers and flowers planted everywhere, he couldn’t help but admire the way it colored the stained pier that L’manburg had become.

“Oh, Ghostbur! I didn’t notice you there at first!” A voice, familiar and so very young shocked him to starting, a wild moment spent glancing around revealed Tubbo just a few feet to his left, dressed to the nines and looking only a little flustered himself. Wilbur focused on calming his racing heart before putting on a polite smile for the current President.

“Hello Tubbo!” He greeted, giving the satyr boy a small wave. “Sorry to startle you.”

Tubbo shook his head. “It’s fine, what are you doing here? You’ve been gone for quite a while, haven’t you?”

“Oh, well…” Wilbur looked around, his mind going back to the ‘message’ he’d gotten a few weeks ago informing him he no longer had residence in his sewer. Seemed Tubbo hadn’t been behind _that_ particular ploy, not that he was surprised. “I’m just admiring the decorations, is all!” He gestured to said decorations, they really were lovely. “Is there going to be a party or something?”

Tubbo’s grin grew, tiny tuft of a tail wagging behind him. “There is actually! L’manburg is going to have a festival celebrating our alliance with the SMP!” He tilted his head then, giving Wilbur a curious glance. “It’s a little like the last one we had-do you remember it?”

Wil swallowed, his mind flashing back to a very _different_ satyr before deciding that maybe this wasn’t in the category of ‘happy’ memories. “No, I don’t actually…” He admitted, making his voice sound apologetic. “Should I…?”

“No…no I suppose you shouldn’t.” Tubbo frowned, giving him a pitying look, before quickly shaking it off. “Well, you weren’t invited to the last one, but I assure you you are most certainly invited to this one!”

Wilbur couldn’t help but give a fond grin. _Kinder than his father was._ “Well I would love to-“ Then he frowned, remembering he can’t make that promise, and then there’s _Tommy_. “But I…I’m afraid I can’t.”

Tubbo’s smile fell as well, his tail falling limp. “…Why not?”

Wilbur glanced away. “Well dad-Philza says we’re to go, I can only assume your festival will happen after that.”

With a huff Tubbo placed his hands on his sides, looking put upon. “So _that’s_ where Philza Minecraft’s gone off to? Don’t think we didn’t notice he left his house arrest.” He puffed his cheeks out in a pout, and it would’ve been adorable were it not for the very real upset in his eyes. “We should really do something about that.”

“Actually you really shouldn’t.” Wilbur was quick to add, hand running though his hair. “Phil’s a little scary when he gets serious-he’s been going easy on you thus far, trust me.”

He could feel the stare Tubbo pinned him with, but the boy sighed, ever one to avoid confrontation if he could help it. “The rest of the cabinet are not going to be happy about this.” He lamented, then frowned again, giving Wilbur another look. “Are you really going to leave? All three of you?” He asked.

Wilbur looked back, not quite meeting his eyes. “Um…yes.”

He still noticed Tubbo’s face fall. “Just…the SMP lands?”

Wilbur sighed. “No, no, we’re leaving the server Tubbo. Dad doesn’t like how Dream’s running things.”

Tubbo’s face crumpled. “But…why? Ghostbur you _created_ L’manburg, you built this country from the ground up-are you just going to leave so suddenly?”

He couldn’t help but grin a little, if sadly. If only he knew. “Alivebur didn’t really consider this _his_ country anymore at the end from what little I remember. And Tubbo-“ His own expression cringed, brows furrowing in pain. “Tubbo it’s not-it’s not safe here anymore. For us. For Tommy especially, it’s mostly due to Tommy that we’re leaving.”

Tubbo’s face then went through a curious range of emotions, shock, then pain, then pity. “You…you don’t know yet, do you?” He asked, hand reaching out to him for a moment.

Wilbur flinched back, if only so Tubbo wouldn’t touch him (thanks to Dream he knew it was a giveaway.) “Know? Know what?”

The pain outweighed the pity. “Tommy…Tommy’s _gone_.” Tubbo looked away, his eyes shiny. “I-I went to Logstedshire, thinking that maybe since Dream was distracted I could actually go and visit Tommy for once…But-but when I got there…” He took in a shuddering breath, his eyes squeezing shut. “He-there was _nothing_ left, just a crater.” His voice broke. “I saw-I saw a tower. Ghostbur-Tommy is-“

He rushed forward, just barely managing to stop himself from taking the boy’s hands in time. “He’s not dead.” Wilbur said quickly, voice urgent. He needed to clarify this and fast- _damn_ Dream for leaving all that mess behind and never telling anybody. “I just saw him this morning Tubbo! Tommy’s _fine_!”

The boy’s eyes shot open, and he looked quickly back up at Wilbur, trembling hope in his gaze. “What? B-but Dream said-“

Wilbur’s expression wavered. “…I don’t think that Dream’s a very trustworthy source…” He admitted. He was playing a dangerous game, but he couldn’t leave Tubbo like this.

Tubbo looked down, then firmed his chin, his shoulders following suit. “Then take me to him.” He said, almost ordered, the commanding tone at odds with his young immature voice. “I-I need to see-need to make sure for myself.”

His heart ached, and he wished he could do just that, but not with Dream so hypervigilant. “I can’t yet.” He admitted, regretful. “Dream’s been hunting him, we’ve had several close calls already.”

Something sharp flickered in Tubbo’s eyes at the mention of Dream, and Wilbur couldn’t help but take notice. Wasn’t the festival celebrating their alliance…? “Then it’s all the more important that I make sure he’s safe.” The president reiterated, his small hands curling into fists, ears flicking in irritation. “Especially if Dream’s blatantly hunting him now-which he _shouldn’t_ be. Tommy’s just exiled, not under restriction. That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

“He’s safe.” Wilbur tried to reassure, planning that airy smile on his face again. “He’s with Philza! There’s nowhere safer than with him.”

Tubbo’s frown grew into something unfamiliar, something darker. “Pardon me, I know he’s your father, but Philza’s also in cahoots with Technoblade, and that doesn’t equal ‘safe’ in my eyes.” He stated, voice steely.

Wil blinked, his own brows furrowing, what had happened to the young bee loving Satyr child he’d known for so many years? Where had this hard edged adolescent come from? “I think you’re forgetting that Phil’s Tommy’s father as well.” He reminded, voice gentle. “And Techno’s his brother, just as I am. He doesn’t show it, I know, but he’d never let any real harm come to Tommy.”

Tubbo scowled, hoofed foot stomping the ground. “Techno sent **withers** after Tommy Wil-Ghostbur!” He growled. “He killed _me_! That Piglin is the _furthest_ thing from safe where Tommy’s concerned!”

Wilbur stepped back, hand raised in front of his chest. “Tubbo…What happened to you?” He asked softly, guilt churning in his chest.

“What do you _mean_ , what happened to me?” Tubbo huffed, an angry snarl on his features. “I know you don’t remember but I should think I have plenty of reason to not trust the man that’s taken _both_ of my lives in cold blood!”

While that was certainly true, it still didn’t match the image Wilbur recalled. He shook his head. “No, no, you forgave him for that first one. It’s the position, isn’t it? It’s changing you.” Wilbur swallowed. “The stress, the expectations-you’re far too young for it.” He shut his eyes and sighed. “He was right. Of fucking _course_ he was right.”

It was at that moment that Tubbo looked, really _looked_ at the man before him, taking in the skin, the expression, the painfully obvious lack of Blue. “…Ghostbur, are you…are you feeling alright?” He asked, voice hesitant.

Wilbur let out a dry laugh, smile curling at his lips. “At the moment? Probably not.”

Tubbo frowned, but this time it was a frown of concern. “Well, you’re not acting like yourself. You’re more acting like-“ A moment, a frozen moment in time before revelation. Then Tubbo’s eyes met Wilbur’s.

Slowly Wilbur stood at his full height, losing the act, his arms hanging limp at his sides. “You really are the best thing that’s ever happened to L’manburg Tubbo.” He admitted, taking another few steps back, his hand slipping into a satchel at his side.

Tubbo just stared at him, eyes wide in shock, looking so small in that scruffy uniform of his. “No…”

He could feel the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he let them fall, if only because now he could. “It’s just too bad that L’manburg is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.” He laughed then, giving Tubbo a sad smile. “And that’s on _me_.”

He had just enough time to see matching sets of tears fall from Tubbo’s eyes before he pulled out a pale potion, something he’d made for such an emergency. “ _Wilbur_.”

“I’m sorry.”

He smashed the potion on the ground, splashing his legs and causing himself to vanish. He then dashed off the pier into the water below, leaving Tubbo to call out after him as he swam away as fast as he could. A part of him regretted being unable to help Techno as much as he’d wanted, with only theories and hunches to go on, as well as a rather inconvenient cover completely blown to smithereens. Still, he waited at the rendezvous without a complaint, just guilt guilt and more guilt choking out his chest.

“So.” Came his brother’s voice, his porcine features fading into visibility. “How’d it go?”

“Pants.” Wilbur quipped, more than a bit of self deprecation in his voice. “I fucked up, can’t go back anymore. Tubbo knows.”

“You’re as bad at keepin’ secrets as Tommy.” Techno snorted, completely unhelpful but at least unconcerned. “Fortunately, I actually know what I’m doing, I got some good info to give to Dream. D’you know, nobody knows how to hide a redstone contraption in this Server?”

Wilbur was about to dryly ask what the fuck his twin was talking about when suddenly his and Techno’s communicators ping’d with a message from Phil. The quip was swiftly forgotten as he read.

_He found him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hybrid Tubbo I think he's adorable it's just upsetting that Schlatt is actually a terrible dad. Fun fact, most of the holdup for this chapter was me having to write the ENTIRE BACKSTORY DURING POGTOPIA in order to understand the whole emotions dealio and whatnot. I came up with something for Schlatt and ended up making myself cry. Also I came up for shit for the SBI family so, like, hopefully look forward to that. 
> 
> 70% of my writing has been dedicated to backstory and I only have four chapters out UGH. This is turning into another epic. 
> 
> Next chapter'll be heavy. Hope you enjoy~


	4. Wipe the tears away, then question the blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time it took me to finally edit this chapter is downright SHAMEFUL. I took a break for an rp event I was helping with, and then my brain said 'I don't wanna work' for several weeks so like, it was a struggle. Also all of the music I had in my playlist was full of WORDS and my brain also did not like that. Break of Reality saved the day though, good band, look 'em up. 
> 
> Anywaaaaaaays, I fucking saw the end of the disk war and I loved every god damn second of it. That bit at the end with Wilbur's spirit was just.......everything I ever wanted. I hope they keep up the wholesome (and brotherly bickering lol) when he finally comes back. Whenever he comes back. I haven't been keeping up with things. my plan is to finish this fic (I have one more chapter to write POG!!!) and then I"ll go back to actually watching the streams-I have so much to catch up on. v.v But yeah it wont, like, get in the way of the other stuff I'm planning to write on this series, because it's becoming a series. Hah, I can't write anything without it becoming an epic. 
> 
> Anyways, I've talked for too long enjoy the chapter!
> 
> tw; mentions of abuse, physical and emotional. Tommy's been through some serious shit and I may be drawing on my own experiences a little...be careful.

Tommy was helping Philza chop some potatoes for stew while Techno and Wilbur had gone off on their merry little jaunt to L’manburg. The days had been awkward and strained to say the least, with Tommy avoiding Wilbur whenever he could-which was hard considering it was a rather cramped house, and Wilbur couldn’t really wander around outside like they’d hoped considering Dream’d figured out he was alive. The entire situation was frustrating, irritating, and…

And Philza just _stood_ there like he wasn’t implicit in the situation at all, keeping his distance and staying out of his children’s disputes like he always fucking did, like he’d done since Tommy was four and too young to understand why his fucking _father_ decided to just dump him on Wilbur and leave them alone for several years. Like he had any right manipulating things this way when it’d always just been them, just him and Wil against all of the worlds, never staying in one spot and always, always, always moving.

Tommy stopped chopping, his breathing heavy as he fought back against the emotion pooling heat into his chest, there was a fucking reason he didn’t call Philza dad anymore.

“You alright Toms?” Philza asked, quiet and clueless, willfully or not, Tommy had no fucking clue. Not like it mattered.

“Yeah…” He answered automatically, lifting the knife up again before pausing. With Wilbur gone he realized he had an opportunity, a chance to ask something that’d been bothering him. “Actually, I have a question.”

“Alright.” Philza answered, turning to give him his whole attention, it was infuriating how he acted like he was so attentive after years of neglect.

Tommy kept his anger behind his teeth and faced his father back, keeping his expression impassive (see Wil he _could_ act!) “How did you do it?” He asked, eyes meeting Phil’s. “How’d you revive him? I can’t figure it out.”

Suddenly Philza looked away, his wings shifting on his back as he turned back to the stew. “Ah, well…” He then forced a smile, looking back at him. “What do you know about Admin Magic?”

Tommy frowned. “Not much.” He admitted, Fundy once had tried to explain it to him, all the numbers had given him a headache. “I know a few commands, but that’s about it. Thought you had to actually _be_ an admin to use it though…”

“Yes, well.” Philza chuckled, then he placed the spoon he’d been stirring with to the side before lifting his hand. A transparent screen showed up beneath his fingers, looking suspiciously like the general chat Tommy would use as a communicator. Philza made a few swiping motions, until the screen was filled to the brim with numbers, then he snapped his fingers and the numbers exploded outwards, enlarging and hovering in strips circling around them both, glowing and changing in front of Tommy’s eyes, making him dizzy. “If you know how to bypass a few walls anybody can be an Admin, really. Just takes a few extra steps.”

Tommy reached out with a hand, his fingers brushing against the floating numbers and symbols, making them flicker and like static to the touch. One let out a loud crack, a spark hitting the side of his hand and stinging him. Tommy yelped, yanked his hand back and cradled it to his chest, giving the offending line the stink eye while he was at it.

“Careful.” Philza quipped, unhelpful and grinning.

Tommy huffed, giving the lines another glare for good measure before turning back to his father. “This doesn’t explain how you brought Wilbur back.” He grumbled.

“Ah, well…” Philza made another motion, causing the strings to loop around Tommy, making him flinch. “Relax, they aren’t going to hurt you if you don’t touch them.” He reassured, chuckling.

“Well it’s bloody hard not touching them when they’re fucking surrounding me Phil.” The boy growled, not unreasonably he thought. He kept his hands curled around himself, trying very very hard to take up as little space as possible.

“Just relax.” Phil laughed again, before extending a finger and gently tapping it against one of the bands of code.

Suddenly they froze, then combined around Tommy’s chest, linking together before contracting and vanishing beneath his skin. Tommy jumped again, though thankfully there was no pain, and the rings of code left his chest with a glowing orb in the center, looking like a model of a molecule he’d seen in a book back when he’d actually gone to school. “The fuck is that?” He demanded, wanting to poke it again, but naturally wary.

“That” Philza declared, poking the thing and making the orb inside expand into what looked like another glowing screen. Tommy tried to peer into the surface, only to see more nonsensical code again. “Would be your Account.”

Oh. Tommy swallowed, suddenly giving the screen a nervous glance. It felt weird _seeing_ his Account, Accounts were…intimate. They controlled so much about a player and seeing his laid bare in front of his estranged father was more than a little unnerving. “It’s _glowier_ than I expected.” He said, nerves hiding behind his words.

Philza just smiled, before giving the Account a few more pokes. “If you think this is unnerving than I probably shouldn’t remind you that Admins have easy access to this with just a touch of a button-oh wait.” He laughed at his poor joke, before pausing at a certain screen. It had three heart imprints in the display, two of them dark with the last one glowing a pale red.

“…Is that what I think it is.” Tommy asked, brows furrowed as he took a step closer.

Phil nodded, his expression sober. “It’s the ‘lives’ you have left. And I’ll remind you, this isn’t normal. This is a _gimmick_ that Dream added on.” His frown twisted into a grimace. “Three deaths, then you get stuck as a corrupted ghost for some fuck-all reason. Wilbur wasn’t ‘dead’ Tommy, not like how we know the word. His account was fully accessible after I bypassed the firewalls with a bit of redstone and some extra interference. Then I just……tweaked things.”

Tommy looked up, frowned. “So you what…gave him a new life?”

Philza shook his head. “Nah, maybe if I _was_ the Admin I’ve have been able to, but sadly I don’t have as much freedom with the Accounts as I’d like. No, I had to do things a bit more tricky. So I fooled the Code to make it think that Wilbur and I were the same person for a moment, and that in turn allowed me to give him _my_ life.”

It took a moment to register, then Tommy gaped at his father, wide eyes, open mouth and everything. “Wh-wait wait _what_?” He stammered, taking a step back. “Do you not have a life anymore Philza?!”

“Well, maybe given isn’t the _right_ word.” Phil hummed, hand lifting to adjust his hat. “It’s more like we share one now. S’got some side effects, if either one of us dies then both of us do, and I suspect there could be some pain sharing involved, but that’s a small price to pay if it means he’s alive again. It’s not like it’ll stick once we leave this server anyway.” Then he waved his hand dismissively, and the molecule ball with his account shoved into his chest again, all the code disbursing into the air.

“That’s still fucking weird.” He grumbled, hugging himself for a moment and shuddering.

“So long as it works!” Philza quipped, before turning back to the stew. “Anyways, that’s how I did it. Simple enough. Better than some esoteric ritual or whatever the fuck Dream had set up I’ll bet.”

“I guess…” Tommy hummed, going back to his own vegetable chopping. Well, that answered that.

A few moments passed, before Philza sighed. “You’re not going to ask _why_ I did it are you?”

Tommy pursed his lips, paying close attention to cutting up the potatoes just so. “Don’t see a point. S’not like it matters.” He grumbled.

“I find that hard to believe.” His father commented softly. “You and Wil were always close.”

“Yeah a fat fuckin’ lot of good that did.” Tommy huffed.

“Tommy, what _happened_?” Philza asked, still soft. Tommy could see him turning to face him out of the corner of his eye. “Thirteen years you were together. Things were fine for so long-did the country really fuck everything up so badly?”

Tommy’s hands curled into fists, knuckles white as he gripped tight to the knife. “You’d know if you were fucking _there_ wouldn’t you?” He bit out. “A lot of shit happened Philza, a lot of fucking shit.”

His dad stiffened, wings fluffing up. “I come onto the server to Wil having a breakdown, he blows up a piece of land barely worth his time, and then he’s begging me to kill him. I just want some clarity Tommy, all I want is an explanation of _why_ I had to kill my son in the first place.”

Tommy pursed his lips, tempted to be stubborn and refuse-what right did he have? He wasn’t around, hadn’t been around for thirteen fucking years, maybe if he had been then-

Tommy let out a shuddering breath, shutting his eyes. He wanted to talk about it. Wanted to get his storming thoughts straightened out, and no matter how angry he was at his father the few, _sparse_ few memories he had of the guy were actually good. And-and he _knew_ why he’d left. He fucking _knew_. It still hurt, but he _knew_. It was Wilbur or the Hunters, the constant on the run life that’d forced Technoblade to become a living weapon, that taught Wilbur to lie as easily as breathing. He knew, even though he and Wil’d had a few encounters, they were far fewer and far less deadly than it’d been if Philza had been around. Like the bird he was, Phil had thrust away his youngest son so he’d have a chance while the predators targeted him instead.

Philza _deserved_ to know, even if it rankled Tommy’s pride.

“The war started as a joke.” He began begrudgingly. “Just a fucking joke, then Dream flipped the script. Started hunting us, started making the deaths _mean_ something instead of the usual painless quick trips through the void. It was punishment or-I dunno, but death started hurting. And then he started _killing_ us. Over and over again. So, so Wilbur got all, all _protective_ or some shit and took it all serious. Not that I blame him.” He looked away, swallowing through a tight throat as his eyes started to sting. “Dream was a wrong-un and he was making a stand. I think he would’ve just taken me ‘n Tubbo and left if he’d thought I wouldn’t be stubborn about it.” A pain in his chest at that, one he ignored. “I didn’t mind the war really, even when shit got painful and bad, we were fighting for something meaningful, and I’d been trying to stick it to Dream from day fucking one. It…it was nice to feel validated, nice to know I was right.”

A small smile graced his lips for a moment, just a moment, before it fell.

“Then Schlatt showed up and fucked it all to hell. There was an election, he wasn’t even supposed to be part of it. He fucking _betrayed_ Wilbur.” He looked up, his eyes water bright as he glared as his father. “He _betrayed_ him Phil! He betrayed all of us! He’d been friends with Wilbur for years and then he just-“ He swallowed, shutting his eyes, it still hurt to think about, to think Tubbo’s _dad_ …

“He didn’t start out crazy Phil. He was just as eager to take back L’manburg as I was, just as driven! He kept talking about bopping Schlatt on the nose and givin’ him a good scolding.” He laughed, couldn’t help it, those early days had been hard, but at least he’d still had his brother next to him, injured as he’d been, _hurt_ as he’d been.

He remembered that day, how Wilbur’d pushed him ahead soon as the Exile was announced. How he’d kept running and running, drinking an Invis potion and ducking behind some shrubs. How he’d heard the wet thunk of an arrow piercing flesh, smelled the sharp scent of blood, making him look back only to find his brother bleeding out on the ground. How he’d dragged Wilbur into his bush and force the rest of the potion down his throat. How he’d half carried him through the woods while all the while being hunted by his best friend, Wilbur barely holding on as he helped him find places to hide. Until they found the Ravine. Until they found Pogtopia.

Then Wilbur died in his arms, but not before making Tommy tell him the coords so he could find him again. He’d held on just until he knew his little brother was safe. Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been so terrified.

“I think Dream started talking to him.” He continued, no longer seeing his father, his eyes back in that ravine, back to the months where he’d watched his brother slowly dissolve into insanity, his soft brown eyes growing hard, empty and cold. “Started…telling him things that Schlatt was doing. Didn’t help that we had to watch proof of his words with every Presidential announcement. Tubbo helping us didn’t help at all, he only confirmed the proof that his dad fucked us over for no good reason.” Tommy swallowed. “I think it broke him Phil. He stopped trusting people, started trying to tell me everyone was lying to us. He was adamant that I agree with him, he tried saying anything to get me to agree with him.” He remembered his face, remembered the too bright smiles and the over gesticulating with his hands. Tells they were. Tells that Tommy knew all too well. Wilbur’d raised him in the safety of his words, the way they twisted reality and baffled whoever they were directed at. The number of times he’d de-escalated a situation that could’ve gone bad, the number of near misses, near scrapes, and all the while there was his brother in the center of it all, directing the stage, deflecting it.

Wilbur’d been _lying_.

“I remember some of that.” Philza said, his words slow and contemplative. “In letters. I knew JSchlatt was a close friend of his, but he never mentioned how it’d hurt him, just said he was going to get his country back.”

Tommy scowled, looked away from his father. “He was probably too proud to say anything, or he knew if you knew how bad he was getting you’d try to come talk to him.” He let out a sigh, frustration in his voice. “I knew he was just hurt, knew that he wasn’t really meaning any of it, so I didn’t agree when he asked me to join him in blowing the country up.” A sick feeling rose in his stomach, this was the part he hated. “He…got angry at that.”

“What did he do to you Tommy?” Philza asked quietly, wings spreading.

Tommy snorted, scowling as he squared his shoulders. “Just more of the same bullshit. Yelled at me. Lied to me. Tried to tell me Tubbo and everyone else was against me.” _Hurt me_ went unsaid, because he didn’t want to deal with the look Philza would give him if he admitted _that_. It wasn’t like it was anything serious anyway. Just gripping his wrists too tight. Yanking him around to make a point. At least he never _hit_ him.

_Not like Dream._

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Tommy said, still not looking at Phil. His stomach clenched.

“Anyway, he stopped asking Dream for information on Schlatt and started asking him for help. I tried to stop him, I really did. I just…” He swallowed, another image behind his eyes. This time of Wilbur standing in front of him, Tommy’s bow drawn and aimed at his chest. ‘ _Do it then._ ’ He’d taunted, smiling in that smug, knowing smile of his.

And Tommy fucking couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. That was his _brother_ , it was _Wilbur_ , how the fuck did he think he ever could-

And Dream just stood there. Stupid smiling mask on his face, impassively watching, smug stance all proud knowing that Tommy would _never_ …

He took in another breath, squeezing his eyes tight, feeling a few tears escape anyway. “It was Dream’s fault dad. Dream got inside his head, convinced him the only thing he could do was wipe the slate clean. And then somewhere along the line Wilbur stopped carring about what would happen after. He got mean and started pushing everyone away unless they were agreeing with him over his _stupid_ chekov’s gun. Technoblade didn’t fucking do anything to stop him.” It still stung, that betrayal. Tommy didn’t lie about his anger still boiling towards his oldest brother. For so, so much more than he could express, Tubbo was just the most obvious.

“I tried so fucking hard.” He repeated, shaking his head, fist clenching at his chest. “I fucking _tried_ , but I-he didn’t-“ There wasn’t life in those dark eyes anymore, empty smiles and hollow laughter and Tommy cried and cried in bed as quiet as he could because he was _losing_ him, he was losing the one single constant in his life the man who’d raised him who’d always been there for him who’d he thought loved him once.

 _Once_ …

He choked, feeling more stupid tracks of water crawl down his face. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his arm, refusing to look at Philza. “I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t save him. And he _fucking_ wanted me dead in the end!” He screamed, bared his teeth in the rage and confusion of it all. “He blew the whole place up under my feet! _After_ we had everything! After we _won_! He made me president all with the intention of burying me in a _crater_!”

Then he finally opened up his eyes, wide, lost, glaring at Philza. Philza who’s face was covered in tears as well, hand half raised towards him, hesitating. Philza who looked equally lost.

“ _What did I do wrong?!_ ” He gasped, choked on air as he sobbed, the betrayal digging deep in his chest like a knife. “When did Wilbur start _hating_ me?”

Philza hesitated, swallowed. “I don’t-“ He said, voice cracking before he pursed his lips, placed his hand firmly on Tommy’s shoulder. “I wasn’t there Toms.” He let out a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t _there_ , so I don’t _know_. I think Wil lost himself, maybe because of Dream, maybe because of Schlatt, but I _doubt_ he hated you. I _highly_ doubt it.”

“Then _why_?” Tommy asked again, voice breaking, more tears falling from his eyes.

“I don’t _know_ Tommy.” Phil let out a shuddering sigh. “What I _do_ know is, he doesn’t now. He regrets it, regrets everything that happened to you since. He told me so himself.”

“ ** _He was supposed to be okay.”_**

Tommy’s expression wavered, then he curled up on himself again, arms crossing tight over his chest. “Even if he does now…” He said, looking away. “I can’t…I don’t know if…if I can forgive him. Not yet at least.”

Philza sighed again, giving tommy’s shoulder a squeeze. “You don’t have to son.”

Tommy frowned, brows furrowing. “I don’t…? But isn’t that why-“

Philza pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. I brought Wil back so he could try to fix his mistakes, and so he’d be mentally sound enough to help get you and the rest of us out before Dream interfered. I’d _like_ for you two to make up but-“ He looked down, face crumpling. “That’s ultimately up to you. It’s _you_ he hurt.”

Tommy swallowed, hands rubbing his elbows as he shifted where he stood. “…S-sometimes when I think of Wilbur then, I think of Dream. I-“ He paused, and Phil’s eyes shot back up to study his son carefully, feathers pin cushioning out at the mention of the Admin. “S-some of the stuff Dream would say-it sounded _so_ much like Wil back in the ravine. About how-how he was only trying to help me. How he wanted to protect me. He-he knew what was best for me.” He rubbed his arms harder, his gaze sliding back to the wall as he went back to Logstedshire.

“He said I couldn’t trust anyone, that no one was my friend. He said they all hated me.”

Philza squeezed Tommy’s arm, soft, pained gasp uttering. “ _Wilbur_ said that?”

Tommy frowned, then shook his head. “No-no, Dream said that, not, not Wilbur. Or-or maybe he did-he said so much that Wil said but so many different things too. But-but they were both looking after me, right?” He looked again at his father, confusion in his eyes. “I-Dream was just protecting me from-from something different than what Wil was. That’s what he said.”

Phil gave Tommy a slightly horrified expression, before licking his lips. “Ah-well…I don’t think-Tommy you _know_ what Wilbur did was wrong, right? You just said it yourself.”

“I-“ Tommy swallowed, then shook his head. “I know, it _was_ , but…but it was my fault too. I-I failed him. I couldn’t save him…” He looked down, pursing his lips. “He-he _was_ wrong, but he wasn’t. He was just-just crazy. But _Dream_ -“

Philza squeezed his shoulder again. “If what Wilbur did was wrong, then what makes what Dream did any different?” He shook him gently. “Dream was _hurting_ you Tommy, just like Wil was.”

Tommy frowned, starring at Phil’s chest. “Was he? But-but he had no reason to do that…he said he was my friend, it was all for my-for my own good.” The _hitting_ though? He knew there was something messed up about that, but he also knew he was difficult, was a gremlin child, Wilbur always said so. But…even Wilbur never stooped to hitting him, no matter how bad he was at listening.

“It was just toughening me up.” He muttered to himself, not seeing the way Philza tensed, how his wings fluffed up even more. “’Everyone babies me’ he said. He had to be hard, else I would never learn.” Was that right? He rubbed his arms harder, mind going back to Wilbur. Was he being babied _then_? “All I do is hurt people.”

“Tommy, _listen_ to me.” Philz’s hands cupped Tommy’s cheeks, forcing the teenager to look into his green eyes. “You _know_ your brother hurt you. You _know_ he lied to you. Is it too much of a stretch to think that if Dream reminded you so much of Wilbur than maybe he was lying to you too?”

“But…why would he?” Tommy couldn’t help but ask, eyes blinking rapidly. “W-Wilbur lied to try to protect me.” It was what he always had done, lying to shopkeepers and hunters and whoever Tommy’d pissed off that week with his shenanigans. It’d just been a shock to have those lies turned on him, especially as he could see through them. “Dream-why would _Dream_ lie to me?”

A look of exasperated disappointment flickered across Philza’s face, no doubt of his regret in allowing his sons to turn into a couple of delinquents with the moral backbone of a limp noodle, but it was quickly covered. “For _control_ Tommy. For-fear of you or-or maybe to manipulate Tubbo-I don’t actually know.” His shoulders then slumped, wings flattening and drooping as well. He looked away. “I don’t know _why_ he’s so obsessed with you, I wish I did.” Then he laughed, shanking his head a moment. “You must’ve pissed him off something good to get this much attention, Wilbur should’ve found time to teach you that not all attention is a _good_ thing though.”

Tommy licked his dry lips, starring at his father. “But Tubbo hates me dad.”

Phil’s smile fell, and he gave his son an almost pitying glance that caused Tommy to scowl. “Oh Toms, I…” He took in a deep breath, then let it out, letting go of Tommy’s face. “Look. Whatever you think about Dream, you can at least acknowledge that you have to avoid him now, right?”

Tommy nodded his head, aggressively nodded it. “Y-yeah, because I left exile.” Then he frowned. “…And apparently because he wants to put me in jail or some shit.”

Phil nodded. “Right. So. We can unpack all that……the rest of that.” He vaguely gestured at Tommy’s person. “Later. For now just focus on keeping away from Dream, okay? That’s all you have to do.”

Tommy frowned, feeling vaguely patronized. “I’m not a little kid anymore you know.” He grumbled.

Phil sighed, before chuckling again. “I know.” He replied, turning back to the stew. “I’m aware. Hey, why don’t you go and see if any of those snares Techno set out earlier caught anything, yeah? Could use a bit of rabbit in this stew.”

Tommy hesitated, then mentally shrugged, going to grab his cloak before heading out the complicated little tunnel they’d made to hide the entrance of their snow pit. The snares Techno’d set up actually weren’t that far from the cavern, so, while Tommy’d been keeping a cautious eye out through the trees, he hadn’t been _too_ cautious.

Nor had he bothered to look up. That was his mistake.

“ _There_ you are Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all finally get to see some of my weird ass hc's, and also hints to what this AU is about! Nice! Also also Philza needs more birb traits he's got wingz it should be explored more. Or maybe that's the zoologist nerd in me. 
> 
> Tommy goes back and forth a lot kinda like how I do with my own abuser. One second I'll be like 'I'm not responsible for this pain it was her and her gaslighting me' and then next moment I'll be like 'but maybe it was kinda my fault I'm kinda a shit person' soooooooooo yeah. Sorry if he seems to flip on a dime there. >.>'
> 
> Next chapter is..........hoo boy. Um. The tw's will only be getting worse. Abuse Themes Abound and all that. Meep.
> 
> (I am so sorry this took so long again.)


	5. This Box Don't Hold Me No More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *collapses* This whole thing is finished. I actually fucking did it, it just needs to be edited. Now I can FINALLY start watching streams and catch up properly on like, everything that's been happening. Holy shit what is that egg arc about, glad Tommy's getting a decent dad in Sam Nook though. 
> 
> I want everyone to know that I had from the start of this fic planned on them entering the prison, if the name didn't make that obvious enough. However, this was before anything about the inner workings of the prison became public, so some things will be inaccurate between this and next chapter, though I did do research for next chapter for my own personal gain. The way they break out will be very unrealistic however, for starters, Tommy isn't in the main chamber. It wasn't originally for him anyway and I have no idea how they'd manage it since we've just seen them being guided through via a guard and a prison break wouldn't have that. I hope you understand, this is for entertainment, not accuracy. I'm going by a liberal rule of cool. 
> 
> tw; This chapter contains graphic depictions of physical and emotional abuse. Dream deserves the place he's in now, never forget that. Take care of yourselves.

Tommy woke up slowly, a throbbing headache pounding his skull and a uncomfortable dryness in his mouth. His fingers scraped against roughly textured rock as he clenched them into fists, his whole body aching as he struggled to move to a sitting position.

He opened his eyes.

What met him was a scene that’d have been out of his own nightmares if his nightmares actually knew what the inside of a prison looked like. Black obsidian surrounded him on all sides but the one he faced, where there was iron bars and the blackstone that peaked through them from the wall. Tommy stood up on shaking legs, slowly made his way to the exit and reached an arm through the gaps, finding only empty air and silence to greet him.

A cage. One without sunshine or friends.

Tommy swallowed, bile rising in his throat as he fought to keep his breathing even. His memories were starting to come back to him, talking to Philza, working out the mixed up crap he had between his now-resurrected brother and the Admin that’d currently trapped him. That same admin that he recalled having jumped from a tree above his head, the back of his ax slamming down on his-

Ah. Yes. That’d be why the back of his skull stung. Tommy reached back, then winced as his hand came away sticky-not even wrapped up or anything of fucking course, not that Dream’d ever given him an ounce of medical attention while he’d been in exile.

No, if Tommy’d gotten any help it’d been done by himself. Or Ghostbur.

Tommy swallowed again, a conflicted clenching in his chest as he reached back out through the bars, he couldn’t get very far, the holes were too narrow.

“Hey!” He called out, both hoping and fearing for an answer. “Is anybody out there?”

Nothing.

The next few minutes were spent with Tommy poking and prodding all around his cell. He punched at the walls, rattled the bars, tried to painstakingly kick the metal in, but something about the cage itself kept him from using his full strength, something in the air or an underlying song thrumming in his bones, making his muscles feel limp. Not that he enjoyed punching iron anyway, always it made his fist sting, but there was nothing else he could do, it was just himself. Not even any furniture decorated the cell.

Suddenly footsteps sounded from somewhere to Tommy’s left, and soon enough a familiar green clothed figure appeared outside the bars.

“Well Tommy.” Dream took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his hands casually in the pockets of his hoodie, his expression as always hidden behind the facemask. “You really fucked up this time, didn’t you?”

Tommy felt his shoulders tremble and physically fought to still them. He set his face into a mulish expression, though it probably just came off as frightened. Dream tilted his head. “I-I never stepped into L’manburg Dream. I didn’t do anything wrong.” He lied, voice irritatingly weak and pleading. He hated disappointing Dream, and hated that he hated it.

Dream tutted, then lobbed an Enderpearl through the bars and into the cell proper, causing Tommy to quickly flinch away, claustrophobia curling his guts. “Tommy, you know what you did.” Dream chastised, leaning towards the teenager, his tone like that of a patronizing parent. “I thought I was very clear, you weren’t to have any contact with anyone or go into the Nether. And don’t think I don’t know what you were doing with _Technoblade_.” The admin shook his head, leaning up and resting a hand on the forehead of his mask. “You’re such a disobedient brat I swear. It’s a wonder why I’ve been putting up with you.”

A bitter taste rested at the back of Tommy’s tongue, and he hunched into his shoulders. “I-I’m sorry Dream, I-“ He stammered, his heart rapid fire in his chest, enclosed spaces suffocating heat and the crushing weight of failure _You’re such a gremlin child, Why do I put up with you?_ Again and again.

“Sorry isn’t good enough Tommy.” Dream snapped, hand falling down to his ax, making Tommy tense. “Oh, you see this?” Dream chuckled, hefting the familiar weight in his hands. “You know what this means, don’t you?” He casually smacked the back of the weapon in his other hand, his steps slowly heading towards Tommy, who pressed himself into the back corner, arms wrapped around himself as he tried to become as small as possible. “This is your punishment Tommy, one of many.” Dream’s voice grew darker, firmer, as he advanced. “You’ll learn to grow the fuck up one way or another.”

He lifted the ax, then brought it down.

```

It took a good chunk of focus for Wilbur to remain calm on the trip back to Techno’s and his twin didn’t look to be too much better. The Piglin’s breath was heavy and his eyes looked like murder, and frankly Wilbur was more than ready to join him. He had half a mind to yell at Philza when he saw the man, for multiple reasons, ~~but that wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar feeling~~.

Even so, unproductively screaming at his father wasn’t going to get his little brother back, so when they got to the cottage he simply approached the hybrid with the air of a soldier ready to go into battle _nevermind that it’d been months and his body still didn’t feel ready in the slightest-no matter no matter he’d force it for Tommy_.

It was some solace to see the rage in Philza’s eyes matching Techno’s matching his, all three men had fire in their lungs ready to expel on the Server, just given a chance.

“We need to find a way into the prison.” Philza said, already having packed with weapons hanging from a belt around his hips, his wings tense and half raised. “It’s littered with Redstone, someone must’ve worked on it other than Dream.”

Techno snorted, before accepting the weapons Phil handed to him. “Dream doesn’t have the technological prowess or know how, he probably commissioned someone else to build it based on what you’ve told us.” He frowned then. “Where is this prison anyway?”

Wilbur accepted his own set of weapons, then wondered when the fuck Techno had made and enchanted so many netherite tools and weapons-before he answered his own question and realized the obvious, it was _Technoblade_ , the man never slept. “You been by the badlands lately?” He asked, hefting a sword in his hands. “There’s a big black box of a building settled in there-that’s the prison.”

“Oh.” Techno blinked, then nodded, set of his shoulders squared. “Might as well start there, none of us are banned from the Badlands anyway.”

“Very true.” Phil quipped, almost cheerfully if one didn’t notice the almost feral grin on his face, the look in his eyes reminding Wilbur of colder air in his lungs, darker skies filled with fire and bombs, back when silver wings tinged with ash heralded destruction of unimaginable scales, each wingbeat signaling death, painful, fire filled death.

They had _no_ idea what kind of dragon they’d unleashed.

He smiled.

```

Tommy woke up, again scraping his palms on the rough edge of obsidian, his skull throbbing, entire body screaming at him in pain. Moving hurt more than he could manage, so Tommy just laid there and breathed, brain catching up to reassess his surroundings.

It was pathetically familiar.

With a strained groan he finally sat up, only to hear another whoosh of an enderpearl smack into the wall beside him, Dream’s green clothes meeting his tired, tired eyes.

When he looked up the admin peered down at him, a bowl filled with something gelatinous in one of his hands. “Good, you’re finally awake.” Dream then scoffed. “You should’ve been up at least an hour ago, it was barely a tap. But I guess that’s why you’re in here.” Then he tutted, shaking his head in disappointment before turning his full attention back on Tommy, who tensed.

“Right. So first, I think I deserve an apology, don’t you?”

“But I already gave you an apology-“ Tommy started, only to be cut off by a gesture from Dream, the scowl evident in his voice.

“A real apology Tommy. Not one of your pathetic, whiney childish apologies to get out of trouble.” Dream straightened up again, voice chipper. “You should apologize to me for being ungrateful! I did so much for you, I was so merciful when I didn’t need to be, and how did you repay me?” He sighed, shoulders slumping as he shook his head. “You spit in my face.”

At first Tommy tried to stand, but when Dream cleared his thought he stayed on the ground, his guts twisting. Of course, Dream wanted him to beg.

He was tempted, oh he was tempted, he was at the man’s mercy and-and he wasn’t _wrong_ after all. He _had_ just spit in the man’s face, running off like he had.

But…

“… _If Wibur hurt you Dream hurt you too_.”

“ _He was just **watching** me_…”

“ _Dream isn’t betraying us, he was never on our side._ ”

Tommy swallowed, arms trembling as they bore his weight and carefully, carefully didn’t look up at the Admin. “I…I don’t think…” His voice broke, so he swallowed and tried again. “I don’t think you were all that merciful actually.”

Tension stilled the air, thick and suffocating. “ _What_?” Came Dream’s voice, hard as his armor, sharp as the blade of his ax.

“And-“ Tommy continued, because if he didn’t he’d lose his nerve. “And I don’t think I should be _grateful_ to you either!” He shut his eyes tight, because dammit it was terrifying but he-he didn’t want to become that scared child he’d been in Exile! Not anymore! Not again! “You were just trying to keep an eye on me after all, _right_? Just trying to _watch_ me! What’s there to be grateful for with that?!”

His whole body trembled, a weight lifting from his lungs, only to be replaced with a real and tangible terror, made worse as Dream took a step in his direction. He flinched, response automatic, and braced himself for another blow from Dream’s ax.

“Oh Tommy.” Instead Dream sighed, again with that patronizing, parental tone. “And here I thought you wanted to eat today.” Suddenly Tommy heard the sound of liquid hitting the Obsidian, he refused to look (his stomach only rumbled the tiniest amount.) “Guess you’re too stubborn to even do this much for me. Oh well. Just remember, _you did this to yourself_.”

Dream’s steps moved to the bars, the woosh of an Enderpearl signaling his exit. Tommy shut his eyes again, relief almost landing him on the floor again.

_Pogtopia was a shithole of a base, the stone rough on Tommy’s palms, mud caking his clothes and limbs no matter how often he snuck to the river to clean himself. It certainly didn’t make growing food easier since everything was underground, and they couldn’t really hunt while being hunted themselves._

_“You should eat something.” He’d said to his brother, Wilbur’d retreated into himself quickly after those first few weeks, while their supplies dwindled and his plans didn’t grow past a vague ‘get back the country’ from the friend who’d stabbed him in the back. He was always brooding, and barely picked at the withered carrots Tommy managed to scrounge from the ground with his limited skills. It was barely enough, but at least it was food._

_“We should call Technoblade!” He suggested suddenly, his mind going to the person in their family who actually LIKED to farm. He smiled, warming up to the idea. Techno could farm, Techno could **fight** , he could win their country back singlehandedly if he wanted to, and maybe Wilbur would stop brooding in dark corners and worrying him. _

_“Technoblade?” Wilbur asked, single brow arching doubtfully. “He wouldn’t bother with something like this-how would you even be able to contact him? Last we heard he was fighting in another tournament off in some Hub world or something.” The former president then scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned back to the wall, scowling. “He hates any and all governments anyway, ever since the Empire.”_

_Tommy wasn’t to be deterred. “That’s why he’s going to help us! We’re overthrowing the government after all, he’ll love a good old fashioned takeover!” He leaned forward, eager, but Wilbur stayed turned away._

_His brother sighed, physically drooping. “Fine.” He said, before going to stand. “If you can even get him here. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”_

_Tommy watched him walk around the table, furrowing his brows. “But, Wilbur-aren’t you going to eat?”_

_“I’m not hungry.” His brother responded, hand nudging the plate towards Tommy as he passed. “You have it.”_

_Tommy might’ve fought, stubbornly refused, but his stomach clenched painfully and he figured the carrots didn’t have much time left in them anyway._

_Next time, he told himself, as he staved off his hunger for another day, while Wilbur curled up in some dark corner pretending his own stomach didn’t rumble._

```

They landed in the Badlands within a couple days, parking the boat far from the overbearing blackstone structure in the hopes of keeping the element of surprise, not that Wilbur had much hope of retaining said element since Dream wasn’t a fucking idiot.

Philza narrowed his eyes, keen sight taking in details of the prison that neither one of his sons could. “I can’t see any obvious way to get inside.” The hybrid sighed, his jaw tensing. “Not that we expected it to be easy.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Technoblade drawled, his sword unsheathed and resting on his shoulders. “We…have a plan, right?”

“Ask around if anyone knows who worked on that monstrosity.” Wilbur replied, gazing out into the surrounding area, looking for any of the residents. “The Badlands are neutral at least, no one’ll be looking to out us to Dream just yet, at least they won’t if we play our cards right.”

“Are you gonna play dead still or no?” Techno asked, arching a brow at his twin.

Wilbur hesitated, frowning, before shaking his head. “Depends-if it’ll keep the conversation short than maybe, I’ll let you do the talking at least.”

“You mean you’ll let _Phil_ do the talking, let’s be real here.” The Piglin remarked dryly, while their father snorted and rolled his eyes at them both.

“Come on you two, standing around’s not gonna free Tommy any faster.” Phil said, before heading off, his sons following quickly behind him.

They didn’t find anyone, searching as they did and giving the prison a wide berth, until someone found them first.

“Techno!” Snarled a voice, a voice with an undertone of growl that made Wilbur freeze in his tracks, his heart in his throat. So many conflicted feelings rose in him, memories, scent of the salt and sea, of earth and sweet berries, of fire and smoke as a flag burned to the ground.

“Fundy…” He turned, and sure enough there stood his adult son, the fox hybrid barring his fangs and pointing the blade of an ax in his brother’s direction. Techno himself had shifted to a defensive stance, his gaze resolute, Philza behind him with wings bristling in anger. That part confused Wilbur, but he’d have to ask about it later.

“Can I help you?” Techno drawled, his monotone underlying the tenseness in his shoulders, the way he gripped tightly to his sword.

Fundy took a few aggressive steps forward, his pupils pinpricks as he snarled, his ears flat. “Don’t you fucking start you anarchist pig!” He growled, tail lashing behind him. He paused a few feet away, claws hooked in defense. “What did you do to Quackity?!”

“Who?” Techno answered automatically, before he blinked and chuckled. “Oh, wait. Yeah, that guy. Um. Listen, I have no idea what you’re talking about-I haven’t seen Quackity since you guys all tried to execute me, sooooooooo-“

“Just-shut up!” Fundy took another step forward, and Wilbur’s heart pounded in his chest-this was going to escalate and they did not have _time_ for this-should he intervene? Would Fundy notice? “We saw the blood, the raven feathers everywhere-your _stupid_ propaganda-did you really think we wouldn’t know it was you?!”

Techno hummed, side eyeing the fox. “Mmm, I dunno, sounds like a frame job if you ask me.”

“Oh, that is _it_!” The fox snarled, before dashing towards the Piglin, only to slide to a stop as Wilbur stepped in between them, his arms outstretched.

“Fundy…” He began, before his words froze in his throat, his breathing heavy as his mind raced. Should he tell him? Should he _act_? Things were so confused between them and it wasn’t like his time as a ghost helped any. “I-I don’t think-“

The fox scoffed, barring his fangs again. “Oh fucking save it Wilbur.” He snarled. “Tubbo told us everything before we found Quackity missing. I _know_ Grandpa brought you back.”

“Oh.” Well that solved that conundrum.

Fundy tilted his head down, so his golden eyes glared at Wilbur from beneath his hat. “Now, get out of my _way_ dad.”

“No.” Wilbur answered quickly, taking a moment to readjust mentally. Then he scowled at his son. “I was _there_ with Techno at L’manburg, don’t you think I’d have noticed if he kidnapped someone? We’ve been with each other this entire time!”

“And why should I trust _you_?” Fundy retorted, pointing his ax at Wilbur instead, making him flinch back, hand at his chest. “How do I know you aren’t the man you were right before your death?”

Wilbur sucked in a breath. “You don’t.” He answered, couldn’t help but answer. He felt no guilt, no problem with his end, he just had a few regrets…

“Fundy we have _no reason_ to kidnap Quackity.” Philza growled from behind, wings flared as he glared bitterly at his grandson. “Think for five seconds would you?!”

Fundy turned his glare towards his grandfather, his eyes narrowed. “It could be a way to prevent us from retaliating after you escaped. Thinking about it, _none_ of you give me reason to trust you!” Then he turned his attention back to Wilbur. “ _Least_ of all my estranged, formally insane _father_!”

Wilbur held out his hands, attempting to placate. “Fundy, you’re alone. How far do you think you’ll get fighting all three of us? Fighting _Technoblade_ of all people???” It was easier to point out Techno, Fundy’d never believed his stories and none of the SMP had seen Philza on a rampage yet.

“Yeah, you’re kinda outmatched at the moment.” Techno drawled, looking more than a little reluctant to fight his nephew.

“Shut up!” Fundy screamed, the knuckles on his hands turning white under the fur with how hard he gripped his ax. “You’ve _always_ underestimated me dad! I don’t care if I’m outmatched, I’ll show you to start taking me seriously!” Then he took a step forward, Wilbur flinching away from the look in his eyes, the _hate_.

“It’s not Techno that took Quackity.” Came another voice, calling all the family’s attention towards it, meeting what looked like a speckled green humanoid wearing golden armor and a crown. Wilbur couldn’t help but wonder why so many people on the server wore crowns before he turned his full attention to the man.

“Sam.” Fundy said, his ax only lowering the tiniest amount, his snarl fading. “What…do you mean?”

The creeper hybrid sighed, his creeper’s scowl turning sorrowful. “I know who took Quackity Fundy, and it’s not Technoblade.” He repeated, before making a gesture for them to follow. “Come with me, I’ll tell you who…” His head bowed even as he started walking away. “I don’t-I don’t want to see more fighting, least of all when it’s something that’s my fault.”

Fundy gaped, before jarring himself out of it to follow behind Sam. “What do you mean your fault? What…?”

The creeper paused, then turned to Wilbur, Techno and Philza. “You might as well come too, I have a feeling this has to do with you, based on what I saw earlier.”

All three stiffened, Philza taking a step forward. “…What do you mean, Sam?” He asked quietly.

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Because I think Quackity is in the same place Tommy is.” Then he turned, shoulders tense again. “But we can’t talk about it here, c’mon before someone notices.” He glanced towards the Prison, still far in the distance but imposing on the land all the same. “You never know who’ll be watching.”

A beat, everyone looking at each other in confusion, then Techno lowered his sword, and shrugged, and the family followed after Sam and Fundy.

Wilbur side eye’d the prison, a chill going up his spine at the thought of it’s eyes.

Eyes peering out from the walls.

```

_Tommy jolted from sheets tangled around his limbs, the darkness of the surroundings disorienting him for a moment, the memory of a nightmare making his heart race. A deep rumble caused him to flinch, before familiarity set in, and he recognized the figure sitting on the edge of his bed._

_Wilbur._

_Wilbur alive, looking haggard and wearing an all too familiar coat, the smell of smoke lingering around him, making Tommy want to gag. He coughed, making his brother turn, dark haunted eyes glancing back at him. “Go back to sleep Tommy.” He said, voice tired, shoulders slouched as he turned back towards the cavern walls._

_“…Okay” Tommy agreed quietly. He hesitated a moment, before he reached out a hand to grasp Wilbur’s, some contact to help him feel less alone. Wilbur didn’t respond, he simply took in a breath and started to sing softly, a soothing, familiar melody to combat the chill of the damp dark. His eyes grew heavy, his heart slowing down at the familiar, comforting voice, he knew in the morning he’d be scolded for sleeping in, for waking Wilbur up with his nightmares, but for now at least, he felt he could rest easy._

Tommy woke again, but not in a bed, his limbs growing numb at constantly sleeping on the unforgiving obsidian, arms getting an unpleasant pins and needles sensation as he forced himself to sit up.

His headache was abating, but the pain in his stomach from his hunger was unrelenting. He curled up, holding his stomach tightly, almost sobbing with the pain.

Another woosh and shatter of a pearl, and an apple rolled within Tommy’s reach. He snatched it, bit into the sweet flesh before Dream could change his mind, nevermind that it barely did anything for his hunger and maybe even made him feel a bit sick, it was still _some_ thing. Dream, for his part let him finish, before he scoffed in disgust, his boots stepping right in front of Tommy before the man kneeled down.

“I can’t believe it.” The admin grumbled, tilting his masked face to either side, Tommy tried not to let the judging scrutiny bother him. “It’s only been a _day_ and you’re already squirming on the ground.”

“Don’t know what you expect out of me big man.” Tommy grumbled, wiping his face before tossing the core away.

Dream scoffed. “I _expect_ you to be better.” Then suddenly he reached out and tangled his fingers in Tommy’s hair, making him squeal in pain as he _tugged_. “I expect you to be _stronger_. Y’know Tommy.” Dream’s tone switched to almost pleasant, even while he still yanked at Tommy’s roots. “Your family’s got this _wild_ crazy reputation; Technoblade, Philza Minecraft, hell, even _Wilbur_ turned out to be impressive with your cute little rebellion and all.” The admin leaned in, his mask inches from Tommy’s face.

“So it’s just a little confusing why they’d purposefully keep _you_ from your full potential.”

Tommy blinked away tears, his hands reaching up to try and fail to pry Dream’s fist from his hair, teeth grit as he wondered what the fuck the madman was going on about. “W-what…?”

“I had my suspicions when you first got here, wondered why Wilbur let a fucking _teenager_ lead his army.” He chuckled, his grip tightening. “It was when we fought _together_ I knew. I knew exactly what you _were_.” He breathed, almost reverent, but then his voice changed again, becoming flat. “Then it didn’t take me long to figure out that you _didn’t_ know.” Another scoff. “Fucking waist of potential.”

Tommy shut his eyes tight, getting sick of the pain in his skull. “The fuck are you talking about?!”

Dream finally let go of Tommy’s hair, making the boy curl up and sob, clutching his scalp. He took in a breath, then grabbed at Tommy’s neck and _slammed_ him into the wall.

Tommy clawed at Dream’s arm, but the Admin didn’t budge, his limbs solid steel as he slowly stood, lifting Tommy as he did so. “You could be _so much more_.” He hissed, face against Tommy’s again. “You could be fucking _lethal_ , but everyone coddles you and babies you and you just. Don’t. Listen!” Dream’s fist squeezed firm around Tommy’s neck, though not enough to suffocate him. He still felt the lack of air however, the familiar fear of having someone up in his face yelling at him suffocating.

Dream paused, did his head tilt thing again, then let loose a low chuckle, voice changing to match. “Oh Tommy, are you scared of me?”

Tommy’s breath hitched.

_“Tommy Innit, you’re **scared**.”_

Another time, another place, but not against a wall, up against a tree, with hands wrapped around his wrists not his neck his brother-his brother grinned his sly grin and promised him everyone was out to get them and he was the only one, the only one he could trust. As he whispered promises and warnings and lies.

_“But it’s okay though Tommy, it’s okay to be scared. Do you know why?”_

_“…Why?”_

_“Because when you’re scared you can do anything you want.”_

Tommy swallowed through a bruised throat, warmth filling his chest, his nails digging into the exposed skin of Dream’s arms. “Y’know what Dream?” He rasped, voice strained from speaking past Dream’s constraining fist.

“ _Fuck you_.”

Dream stared at him a moment, then threw Tommy onto the floor, his boot slamming onto his side, kicking him to the other wall.

Tommy curled up, sobbed, this was why Wilbur said his mouth got him into trouble.

Dream unsheathed his ax again, and Tommy braced himself, but he only pointed it at him. “You’re _damn lucky_ I’m doing this for your own good.” Dream snarled, angrier than Tommy’d ever heard him before. “Because if not you’d be fucking _dead_.”

Tommy almost wished he was.

```

The one good thing about where Sam lived was that it was far enough away from everyone else that Wilbur didn’t think they’d be jumped anytime soon. It was also far enough away from the prison that he didn’t feel it’s not-so-nonexistent eyes on his back, and from the way Sam finally relaxed behind his own four walls the creeper felt the same.

He waited until they all settled, Phil and Techno in one corner, Wilbur a small distance from them, Fundy a good distance from him and Sam himself not too far from Fundy. The creeper ran a hand over his face, then let out a tired sigh.

“So?” Fundy prompted, turning to the older hybrid, one ear twitching at a stray sound from outside. “You said you’d explain.”

Sam scratched black claws under his crown, still with that sad expression on his face. “So, Dream has Quackity…And Tommy. I saw him carrying the kid into the Prison a couple nights ago after I’d-” His shoulders slumped. “After I’d given the warden chambers a tune up.”

A pregnant paused while everyone present absorbed that information. “So, _you’re_ the one who worked on the Prison’s redstone then?” Philza asked, not accusingly.

Sam nodded, carefully not looking at any of them. “Built the whole thing actually, with some extra help from Bad and-and Ranboo.”

“Ranboo?” Fundy gaped, surprised. “Wh-why would Ranboo-he never mentioned working on something like this!”

Sam shrugged. “He mostly helped with resource gathering, you know how that kid is. Always wants to help.” He gave a chuckle, a flicker of a grin flitting over his face for a brief moment. “But-no mistake. The majority of the prison’s work is of my design. Dream commissioned it months ago, he never told me who it’d be for, troublemakers mostly.” He physically drooped more. “If I’d known-I did a lot of it for money, y’know? Money and resources, a good chunk of them for Quackity, since he’s so bad at taking care of himself.”

“And yet Quackity’s in the prison now, huh?” Techno drawled, before letting out a dry chuckle. “Irony’s a real bitch to you ain’t it?”

Sam flinched, while Philza quietly scolded Techno under his breath. Wilbur couldn’t help but agree with his twin’s assessment however, it was what he got for trusting Dream of all people. “Y-yeah.” Sam admitted, shutting his black eyes. “I know. The only reason Quackity’s in there is because of me after all.”

Fundy took a few steps towards the Creeper, hesitating-they hadn’t had the best relationship but he didn’t look like he wanted to blame the man. “What…did you do?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Sam quickly answered, a bitter tone to his words. “Quackity is…insurance. Now that the Prison’s over I’m the best bet for anyone to get in and out of it, I know that redstone like the back of my hand, I can see it in my sleep. I dream about it sometimes.” He buried his face in his hands, flopping into a chair behind him. “I’m so stupid.”

“Well…” Fundy continued, looking awkward, his hand curling back to his chest. “You know how to get in and out, why don’t we go in and rescue him?”

Sam laughed, a hopeless, helpless thing. “If only it were that easy-I could give one of you the key, but soon as you get in there you’re going to get swarmed, or lost, there’s a thousand ways to die in that Prison and you can’t counter them all.” He let out a huff, looking back up at all of them, desperation in his eyes. “I shouldn’t even be telling any of you this, I just didn’t want to witness a bloodbath. Blame _me_ for Quackity, please.”

Wilbur pursed his lips, his mind racing through a hundred scenarios. He stepped forward, nevermind acting right now. “Sam, you know Dream has Tommy.” He began, his voice low, urgent, his body leaning towards the creeper as he looked up at him. “What you don’t know is what Dream’s been doing to him. I swear to you, Tommy will die if he stays there. He can’t-“ His voice cut off, eyes shut as he looked away. He swallowed. “He ‘s resilient, but Dream’s been working the long con on him, and I’m afraid of what another dose’ll do.”

Then he turned back to the creeper hybrid, gesturing with his hands as he took a step forward. “You say we can’t get through the prison, but you don’t really _know_ that, do you? I promise, let us share in your knowledge and we will tear that building by the foundations and rescue Quackity and Tommy, you have my word.”

Sam frowned, to his right, Fundy looked away, his ears folding as he frowned. Wilbur kept his gaze on Sam.

“…Pretty words won’t solve this problem Wilbur.” Sam sighed, looking away himself. “What makes you so confident? It’s _my_ redstone you’re against.”

To that Wilbur grinned, letting the man see into his inner fire, a glimpse into the man that’d blown his whole country into the ground, a man fueled by desperation and betrayal, a man cornered and turned feral.

“This time we won’t be playing by the rules, Sam. Dream crossed the line, now it’s a no man’s land.”

Sam’s frown turned into a scowl. “You’ll probably end up banned.”

Philza pipped up. “So let’s be fuckin’ banned then, we’ve planned to leave the server anyway. I _told_ Dream just that, before he decided to stoop to kidnapping.” The hybrid growled, barring his teeth, wings bristling, his hair floofing up just slightly.

Fundy’s ears then perked, and his frown turned to one of confusion as he looked first at Philza, then Wilbur. “…You’re leaving?”

Wil stiffened, but nodded. “Yeah…Fundy, we’re leaving.” He sighed.

The fox man starred at him wide eye’d for a moment, then he snarled, barring his fangs as he glared. “Y’know what? Fine. Whatever. I’m not even surprised anymore.”

Wilbur flinched, before turning a guilty look at his son. “Fundy…” He started, hand lifting towards him.

“No!” Fundy barked, tail raised and bristled. “Bad enough that my own _father_ didn’t bother to talk to me when he was resurrected, but to leave without saying goodbye?!” He blinked then, his golden eyes wet, before he turned that snarl at Philza. “I thought we were supposed to be a _family_! Even if you were pissed off at me, I thought that at least was the bare minimum!”

Phil frowned, before pointing a shocking amount of anger at his grandson, surprising Wilbur into flinching. “You tried to _kill_ your uncle!” He yelled, his wings giving a sharp flap in anger. “You attacked him when he hadn’t done anything to you for _months_! How can we trust you when you make a habit of backstabbing your own family like that? You hurt us first!”

Fundy took a step forward, pointing a claw at his grandfather. “The only _uncle_ I knew was the one that _this guy_ ” He gestured with his free paw towards Techno. “Aimed withers at! Face it grandpa, when it comes to family loyalty this whole family is _fucked_!” He smiled then, a mad, rabid smile that was far too similar to the one Wilbur used just a few moments ago, and from the way both Phil and Techno stilled, they noticed. “I mean, it’s not like _child abandonment_ isn’t a running theme with us, eh Gramps?”

Philza stilled, his eyes wide with shock, then before he could move or react a hooved hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, Techno stepping in front of him.

The piglin sighed. “Listen Fundy, believe it or not, I agree.” He paused, waiting for all heads to turn towards him in the expected response. He shrugged. “Yeah, you heard me, he’s absolutely right. We aren’t exactly the most stable or healthy family, I mean, c’mon.” He turned to Phil, who still looked to be in shock. “Dad, you might as well say Wilbur’s more of a father to Tommy at this point, raising a kid for four years doesn’t exactly a parent make, and you can’t say me and Wilbur turned out alright.” He gestured to himself. “I’m a violent machine built for battle despite my many attempts to be otherwise, and _this_ guy.” He nodded towards Wilbur. “Ended up offing himself in the most melodramatic way possible to prove a fucking point.”

Wilbur scowled, crossing his arms. “Thanks Techno, always glad to have my past traumatic experiences invalidated. Wonderful job.”

“You’re welcome.” Without missing a beat Techno replied, before frowning and looking at Fundy again. “Fundy, we’re not the best family, we’re not even that _good_ , but you should at least know that there are…reasons behind why we do what we do.” He sighed then, his own ears drooping. “The thing with Tommy was-look. I won’t apologize for my stances or my beliefs, you were making a government and planning a coup solely in the interests of reclaiming power and that shit does not fly, but Tommy…I was trying to teach Tommy a lesson.”

Fundy blinked. “A _lesson_?” He growled, still barring his fangs.

“Yeah, a lesson.” Techno replied, not breaking his gaze. “’Bout what’ll happen if he keeps letting himself be caught up in grandiose schemes in an attempt to be somethin’ great.” He frowned. “I was tryin’ to show him what happens to heroes, hoping he’d stop tryin’ to become one. That kid has an unhealthy habit of catching the spotlight, and he just _steps_ into the role way too easily. It’s gonna kill him some day.”

Fundy let out a huff, rolling his eyes. “And is that supposed to be an _excuse_?”

“No. But it does provide some useful context. Ask Wilbur about how growing up with Dad was like, how many times we ended up facing the end of a crossbow just for lookin’ different, or in Wil’s case, being _raised_ by someone who looked different. Ask yourself who was the _safer_ option to raise Tommy.” Finally, finally he looked away. “And maybe ask yourself why we’d think it’d be safer for you to stay away from the people actively attempting to antagonize your Hunter fiancé.”

Wilbur tensed, shaking his head and gesturing in Techno’s direction, but the damage had already been done.

Fundy’s breathing increased, his paws curled into fists, claws digging into his palms and drawing blood. “You think I’d take this to _Dream_?” He asked, voice raising.

Techno blinked, frowning. “Uh…yeah? You two are getting’ married, right?”

Wilbur bit his lip, recalling that disaster of a marriage. He also recalled that neither Philza or Techno had been invited.

Fundy looked up, his lips curling into a manic grin before he started to laugh. “Ha…haha!” Then he laughed harder, a wild uncontrollable thing, tears forming out the corners of his eyes. Wilbur swallowed, an uncomfortable feeling of seeing a reflection settling into his guts.

“He let me at the _alter_!” Fundy screamed, glaring at Techno and Phil, claws raising in front of his face. “It already _happened_ , the bastard just _left_ me, he-!” His voice petered out, his chest heaving as he panted, tears falling freely. “He…” His snarl turned into a frown, face crumpling.

Sam cleared his throat, awkwardly, shifting on his feet as he watched the family drama play out in front of him. “You…um…actually thought someone like Dream was a good guy to marry?” He asked, voice soft.

Wilbur couldn’t take this, he took a step towards his son, reaching out a hand, hesitating. “Fundy…” He started, frozen by indecision.

Fundy just stared into space, not quite seeing what was in front of him. “…I thought I could change him, dad. I thought I mattered. I did so much to impress him, made him so many things, and he _let_ me.” He turned fully to Wilbur then, grinning a sad grin, his tears framing it. “He _let_ me show him all of my experiments, let me shower him in gifts I made _just_ for him, he told me he loved it. I-“ He looked down. “…I think…I just wanted him to be proud of me.”

 _God_. “I would’ve been proud of you Fundy.” Wilbur said softly, his heart breaking in his chest. “If you’d shown those things to me, I would’ve been proud.”

Fundy hiccupped out a laugh, before wiping his face with his arm. “I don’t know what happened between us dad. Maybe I should’ve come home more often…? Maybe I shouldn’t have ever left…”

Wilbur shut his eyes, another familiar stab of guilt in his chest. “Maybe I should’ve reached out more, instead of getting distracted with Tommy.” He sighed, looking at his son again. “…I’m sorry Fundy. You deserved better than me, than this fucked up family. I should’ve tried harder for you.”

Fundy let out another laugh, more of a sigh really, before leaning his tired body against the nearest wall. “…Thanks dad. I…” He slumped. “That…really means a lot to me. Maybe…maybe you all have the right idea.” He shook his head. “Maybe I should leave the SMP myself.”

Wilbur perked up a bit, taking another step towards the fox. “Why don’t you make your own finally? Surely you’ve learned enough by now. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Fundy looked away, brows furrowed in thought. “I…would like that. I’m just not sure-what if I’m not ready?” He looked up, faced Wilbur. “Would…would you help me if I did?”

A surge of longing shot through him. “I’d love to Fundy, but…” He sighed, shook his head. “I’m not sure…I know I’m not nearly at the level of admin magic that you are, especially if you’re ‘experimenting’ with it.” He chuckled, couldn’t help it, pride filling his lungs alongside regret.

“Surely you know some other Admin that’s not as shitty as Dream.” Technoblade suggested. “They’re not exactly thin on the ground.”

Then a frustrated huff came from behind him as Philza walked back to the front, a grumpy scowl on his face. “I’m still not happy with what you did.” He grumbled, giving Fundy a look. “But since Wilbur’s told me about the kind of server you want to make, I’d be willing to help you set it up.”

Fundy gasped, wide eyes turning in surprise to Philza. “…Really grandpa?” He asked slowly. “You mean it…?”

Philza sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. “I do.” He answered, looking down. “…Besides, Wilbur’s not the only one who has apologizing to do.”

“Soooooooo…” Sam interrupted again, still looking more than awkward, but a bit relieved since the tension seemed to have faded. “Now that that’s over with, you were saying something about breaking server rules?”

Fundy chuckled, wiped his face again before standing back up. “Yeah, _yeah_ , and they won’t be the only ones either.” He lifted his paw, admin magic crackling between his fingers, code making a helix above his claws. “Dream should know better than to underestimate _me_.”

Wilbur smirked, then turned back to Sam. “Give us your blueprints, and any notes you created on the security of the prison. Depending on what they are, I think we have a plan.”

```

Tommy coughed, throat still sore from the grip on his neck, his whole body aching from the kick to his ribs and his subsequent landing. He forced himself to glare up at the Admin, though every fiber of his brain screamed at him to grovel, to apologize.

He was so sick of apologizing.

“No one asked you.” He rasped, forcing himself on sore arms to sit up, one reaching up to cradle his waist. “No one _asked_ you to-to make me into a fucking _prodigy_ or whatever the fuck you’re trying to do.” He coughed again, somehow managing to stumble his way onto his feet, glad was he that there was a wall to brace him.

Dream reached up and adjusted his mask, so Tommy could see the angry scowl on his face. “I’m not trying to make you into a Prodigy.” He growled. “I’m trying to make you into what you _are_. We’re the same, you and me.”

Tommy tensed. “I’m _nothing_ like you.” He spat, welcoming the rage that burned away his lingering fear.

“You are _exactly_ like me.” Dream countered, stepping closer to Tommy, making him curl away on instinct. “You take to fighting like a fish to water, your energy is almost endless, you can’t sit still, no matter what you do you don’t _die_ , you’re resilient, you’re strong, _and_ -“ He paused, then pulled out a familiar shiny piece of vinyl, twirling it in his fingers. “You obsess over certain things like a shark smelling blood. Face it Tommy, I know what you are, even if you don’t.”

He leaned forward again, his mouth curling into a too wide grin. “You’re a _Hunter_.”

_Tommy stood at the end of the tunnel out of Pogtopia, he felt…drained. Ragged, down to the dregs, his clothes were dirty and frayed but he still stood strong. Doubts rang in his mind, doubts about a Traitor, whispers from an Admin that had done nothing but cause trouble even when he was on their side, however briefly it was. Now though…he looked back behind himself, remembering the preparations, remembering how many had left Manburg and joined him and Wil and he smiled._

_Doubts in his mind, but he had enough people left to shut them out. They **would** win._

_“So it’s tomorrow then.” Drawled a familiar voice, he’d have called it drunk if he wasn’t certain there was no alcohol to be had in their little hole in the ground. Tommy didn’t turn to face him, knowing that would only encourage Wilbur more. “We attack at dawn and all that.”_

_“It is.” Tommy responded, short, curt, part of him just wishing for the conversation to be over while the rest of him longed for the comfort talks with his brother **used** to have. “Tomorrow we take it back, just like you said we would.” _

_A sigh, scrape of a hand on a stone wall. “I said that right after getting shot in the side and losing a life Tommy. I didn’t know what I was saying.” Tommy turned, facing the elder’s wry grin. He had hollow cheeks, bags under his eyes, his clothes hanging off him in a way that suggested a severe decrease in muscle mass. Had he been eating? Sleeping? Tommy couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen the elder do either, and everytime he’d tried to force the issue…_

_There was a good reason why he’d spent more time out of the ravine gathering troops then inside dealing with his mess of a brother._

_“Still, I think we have a good shot at it!” Tommy insisted, turning towards him, silently begging him to see his side of things for once. “Everyone’s left Schlatt, everyone’s on our side! He doesn’t have anybody!”_

_“Except Dream. And the Traitor.” Wilbur answered, a dark gleam in his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at his brother, a barely there smile on his lips. “And you know what’ll happen if you fail.” Fire and explosions, and Tommy still felt himself flinch at the sight of dynamite. Wilbur smirked. “It’s all a losing battle anyways, there’s no point in you to keep fighting. And yet…” His smile faded. “You still do.”_

_Tommy scowled, and jabbed a finger into Wilbur’s chest. “It doesn’t’ matter what you think, I’ll show you-we’ll win this country back, you’ll see!” He had to see, please let him see…_

_Wilbur scoffed, knocking the finger away. “Sure thing Tommy.” He replied, laughter in his voice. “Just remember, the Traitor’s still lurking, and he knows of your plans.” Tommy turned then, walking away, not wanting to deal with the taunting. “He might even be me, for all you know~!” Wilbur called out behind him._

_“Goodnight Wilbur.” Tommy called over his shoulder, heart tight in his chest. What if he was, what if he was, no, no, no, Wilbur was smarter than to lay his plans out like that, he could still trust him he was just…….just………._

_“…….Goodnight Tommy.” Said his voice, faint and sinister as a ghost haunting the ravine, a wraith of his former self._

_Like a living ghost._

```

The family stood in front of the oppressive structure that was the Vault, the inescapable prison that Dream’d commissioned Sam to build, a thousand different ways to get killed, one way in, one way out.

Wilbur held a keycard in his hands, a notebook with messy scribbles on it in his satchel. Sam didn’t promise it’d make things any easier, but it was better to be forewarned in any case.

“Sure you two can handle the break in on your own Wil?” Philza asked him, frowning as Techno shifted on his other side.

Wilbur took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah…yeah…we should…we should be fine.” He reassured his father, though they both knew he was lying. “Hopefully you and Techno can cause enough of a mess to keep most of the wardens occupied, while me and Fundy can cheat our way through.”

“Least it means I’ll get the chance to use my own Vault on L’manburg.” Techno drawled, feral grin on his face as he sorted through his Ender Chest.

Fundy gasped. “I just betrayed my own country again, didn’t I? GOD DAMMIT!”

Wilbur chuckled, reaching over to pat his son on the back. “It’s okay Funds, at least it was for the right reasons this time.” Then he side eye’d his twin. “Also, this is to the whole SMP, not just L’manburg.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t wanna see that place up in flames again Wil.” Philza quipped, playfully nudging his shoulder with his wings. Wilbur couldn’t help but give a small shrug, what could he say? Sometimes you had to toss out the unfinished project.

Fundy gave a tired sigh, before gesturing towards the entrance, where a Nether portal happened to lay. “C’mon, Sam said if we used this portal we’d end up inside.”

Wilbur turned to his dad and brother. “We’ll wait in the Nether until you both get set up, then we’ll head inside. Hopefully they’ll be too distracted to notice the breach.”

Philza rested a hand on his shoulder, strain in his smile. “Good luck son. Bring your brother home.”

Then Philza was off, taking to the air as he’d not done before out of respect for Dream’s laws. Techno followed after him, downing a potion and vanishing from sight, only the footprints leading away in the dirt hinting at the Piglins’ direction. Wilbur sighed, shutting his eyes as he tried to calm his mind for what was to come.

Then he stood up, he turned, and led Fundy towards the portal.

Only to be immediately interrupted.

“Wait!”

“Oh my god, _can’t you see we’re busy_?!” Wilbur yelled, turning to face the voice that so rudely interrupted his and Fundy’s rescue attempt, only to get a shock when he spotted who just so happened to be behind him.

Tubbo stood there, out of his president’s uniform and into his scruffy clothes, red bandana tied loosely around his neck. Next to him, for there was another person, was Ranboo. The teenager looked awkward, shifting from foot to foot, but he didn’t seem to be held against his will either. Wilbur frowned.

“Why are you here?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t you have a festival to run?”

“That was before you told me Tommy was leaving, and then Fundy said he was leaving too!” The satyr scowled, or at least he attempted to scowl, Tubbo’s features made it look more like a pout. “Then Fundy said you were going to make a rescue attempt and you’d have to be an _idiot_ if you think I wouldn’t want to help!”

Wilbur side eye’d his son, who for the record at least looked _somewhat_ sheepish. Only somewhat though.

“Tubbo you only have one life left, and this prison is dangerous.” He offered, though his heart really wasn’t in it.

“So’s running a country that’s about to get bombed by Anarchists, but that didn’t stop you from appointing me before.” Wilbur flinched, damn he forgot how _vicious_ Tubbo could be. “Plus, it’s _Tommy_.” Then Tubbo stared him down with a mulish expression, and honestly Wilbur couldn’t be assed when the teens had been separated for so long already-he just hoped he didn’t have to watch the life bleed out of a kid he’d _also_ practically raised.

Instead of fighting a losing battle he turned to the other teenager, the one who was _less_ practiced with getting his way from him. “Ranboo, why are _you_ here?” He asked, noting his voice sounded tired.

Ranboo glanced to either side, still looking awkward, reminding him of Technoblade when pushed into weird social situations. “I don’t really have any loyalty to L’manburg.” He explained. “And honestly finding a new server is sounding kinda good right now so…plus.” He frowned. “Tommy stood up for me too. I wanna help him.”

Then he looked up, met Wilbur’s eyes for just the briefest of seconds, though those seconds were enough to give Wilbur the oddest sensation, intense and eerie, like there was far more going on than just a simple look. “Also I’ve been inside the prison before when you guys haven’t. I know at least somewhat of the basic layout inside.” It was a relief when he looked away.

Wilbur could’ve fought him, could’ve denied the help on the basis that they were children, and he was tired of taking children in to fight impossible battles and wars, but Wilbur was desperate, and they needed all the help they could get.

He sighed. “Fine.” He said, turning back to the portal before he could change his own mind. “Come along then.”

“We enter when the blood god rises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fundy deserves the world, I am so sorry for the ooc inaccuracies, I haven't watched Sam OR Ranboo but they are both very much on my list now (especially Ranboo holy FUCK he's reminding me of surrealist horror and I love that shit.) Next chapter comin' after I edit it up, along with an epilogue after it. Then I'll finally be done.
> 
> Holy fucking shit I'll finally be done. @.@ 
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoyed~


	6. Sayonara you son of a bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory apology for how long this took is obligatory. I'M FUCKIN FINISHED THOUGH!!!!! Well. Not. There is ONE more chapter left that I plan but this is the final official chapter. There's more intended though, but this fic is DONE. 
> 
> This is the second chapter fic that I've ever managed to finish. I'm reeling over it honestly, but still proud I managed. Hot damn. So much of this was planned before so much was revealed, so I apologize slightly for the divergence from Canon once again. No more after this though, we don't know canon anymore y'all. 
> 
> SPEAKING of canon I am REELING and also waving goodbye to all my Tommy and Wilbur brotherly bonding ideas. Rip SBI dynamic in the SMP holy FUCK. Give this poor child a break why don't y'all. I still have theories tho and I might write 'em I dunno. Or depending on how Wilbur works on his character I might. Like. Sneak some of that into the next fics. Y'know how it is. 
> 
> Depression kept me from editing this chapter I'm very sorry. v.v No tw's this time just lots of weird minecraft hc's. Oh. But poor Ranboo gets badly mangled. 
> 
> Anyway enjoy the chapter.

Technoblade marched to the internal beat of war drums in his head, slowly approaching the large castle that held the King of the SMP. Voices, thousands of voices screamed in his head, a familiar backdrop of bloodlust and rage.

**DEATH**

**KILL**

**TEAR IT ALL DOWN**

**_BLOOD_ **

He smiled, a mad grin lighting up his crimson eyes, his hoofs clacking against the stone as he climbed the steps, approaching the throne room of Eret.

The Voidkind King shot up from his seat, startled expression on his face, as well as nerves. “To what do I owe the pleasure Technoblade?” They asked cordially, a wary set to their shoulders.

Techno let out a snort, hefting his newly crafted netherite ax over his shoulders, it wasn’t the same as his named items, but circumstances being what they were…. “Don’t think pleasure’s what you’re getting Eret.” He drawled, grin growing on his face again. “This is a courtesy call though. A warning, if you will.”

Puffy, who’d stood loyally in the corner as Eret’s Knight stepped forward, her own sword sliding out of it’s sheath. “A warning?” She asked, shoulders tense. “About what?”

Techno turned to her, still grinning. “The server’s gone to shit. Dad says it’s time to go and Dream’s crossed the line. He has my brother.” Both Knight and King stood up in surprise and alarm. Techno figured neither one had really known of Tommy’s relationship to him, not that it shouldn’t have been obvious, but whatever. “Phil says I should apologize for what we’re about to do, but quite frankly, I don’t a shit.”

His grin grew, a panel appearing under his hoofed hand, a string of commands flowing across it. “You should’ve realized this day would come eventually Eret, a monarchy’s as much of a government as any other.”

“Techno, wait…” Eret said, standing up from her throne as she reached out, trying to reason, trying to stall.

She didn’t know this was all part of the plan.

“ _You should run.”_

```

**_Eret withered away_ **

**_CaptainPuffy was slain by Technoblade’s Wither_ **

Philza deactivated his communicator screen with a wave of his hand, then shut his eyes. He took in a deep breath, wings spreading from his shoulders wider and further than they had in _months_. It’d been a real pain keeping them bound, keeping them nothing more than pretty limbs hanging uselessly on his back, keeping them from what they were _for_.

The short flight from before wasn’t enough, he itched under his skin, eyes shooting open as he let loose a wild grin of his own, numbers and magic sparking from his hands and around his face. He could almost see it, the code that made up the building blocks of every server, admin run or not, the worlds that formed from thought and humanity’s sheer stubborn will. Strings of commands raced through his mind, each one devastating in their own way, each promising it’s own level of carnage and server wide destruction.

A memory slipped in, that of a question someone once asked of Techno while he’d been nearby.

_Who’s this ‘blood god’ you keep swearing to?_

His grin grew wider, sharper, a dark chuckle in his throat as he lifted off the ground. He looked out over the SMP, sparring a moment of regret for all of the beautiful and crazy builds everyone had collectively worked to create. He was never a fan of griefing.

Not unless it was deserved.

“This is what you get Dream!” He called out, nevermind that no one could hear him over the screaming wind, nevermind that nobody noticed unless they happened to be looking up at the time. They’d learn to fear what they saw though, as TNT appeared like rain wherever he flew.

“Time to break a server!”

The blood god had risen.

```

**Punz got blown up.**

**Sapnap got blown up.**

**Jackmanifold was slain by TNT.**

“That’s the signal.” Wilbur said, before closing his communicator. He turned to the teens and his son as they stared at him, the portal swirling eerily behind them. The room they stood in was reminiscent of the building they’d been in before, the supposed ‘entrance’ according to Sam. Nothing about it hinted that they were in the nether, other than the temperature and the sound of crying Ghasts. More pings came from their communicators, but Wilbur deliberately ignored them.

Ranboo pulled up his own screen however, his mouth opening as he scrolled through…and through. “How much TNT…?”

“Nevermind about that.” Fundy interrupted, starring hard at Wilbur as the latter opened the book Sam had given. He flipped through the pages, going over the notes one last time. “What’s the plan dad?”

“There’s an exit used by the warden.” Wilbur read, eyes skimming the words rapid fire, mind linking them all together. “Sam says he can get us in, but we’ll have to use that way out. As to getting through the prison proper…” He pursed his lips, labyrinths, checkpoints, and Mining Fatigue every inch of the way. At least they had Sam’s key to bypass a lot of the doors.

“There’s so many stopgates, if only there was a straight way through…” He murmured to himself.

“I might have an idea.” Ranboo popped up, turning all eyes to him. The Enderman Hybrid shrank a little under their gaze. “I mean, it’ll take some time, but might be quicker than just using the key card every step of the way, right?”

Wilbur frowned, honestly time was of the essence, the faster they got Tommy out the less chance they had of fighting a guard. “Do it then.”

“What exactly _are_ you gonna do?” Fundy, having spent more time around the teenager, frowned, clearly not liking the look on his face.

Ranboo just grinned a fanged grin. “Just a bit of Teleporting, no big deal.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Tubbo commented, as Wilbur pushed them all through the portal, they needed to get a _move_ on already.

“Well, we’re already breaking the rules, right?” Ranboo quipped, the only one completely unaffected by the interportal nausea, it was the Enderman in him, Wilbur was only _slightly_ jealous. “Wow, Sam really went all out here, didn’t he?”

Wilbur ignored the decorations, small part of him mourning the time his builder’s heart would usually partake, but it was the levers and dispensers that were important. He studied the buttons, ignored the flashbacks they inevitably caused. Tubbo stood beside him for the same purpose.

“I think it needs you to throw in the key.” The satyr suggested, ears flicking, listening for any unfamiliar sounds, his cool façade hiding the worry from his face, but not in the set of his shoulders, the way his ears kept flicking back and twitching.

Wilbur did as suggested, tossing the book into the floor until it vanished as it was plucked by a hopper. Then with a few experimental flicks and button presses a door opened up in the blackstone wall.

To another hallway with a dead end.

Wilbur cursed. “Might need a bit of that Enderman magic after all Ranboo.” He said, sinking feeling in his gut.

“Wait Wil-“ Tubbo grabbed at his sleeve, nerves furrowing his brows. “If there’s mining fatigue that means Elder Guardians, which means _water_! Ranboo gets hurt in water!”

For his part the Enderteen gave a brave smile. “I can handle it for a little bit, just, um…these walls all have layers, so finding the guardians’ll be a bit…” He laughed, a nervous reaction.

Wilbur frowned, wracking his brain, but it was his son who came up with a solution instead. “Wait a minute.” Fundy stepped up to Ranboo, took his hand, numbers and symbols binding their hands together. The fox frowned, screen flashing over his eyes. “I think I can pinpoint all the mob entities in the prison and give you their exact coords, that might help you get in and get out quicker.”

“That could help.” Ranboo chirped, though his smile flickered. “Though my memory is a little….um…” He brightened again. “N-nevermind. It’ll be fine!”

Fundy shifted his eyes to look at him from the screen, frowning. “I can message it to your communicator?” He offered.

Instantly the Enderman relaxed, tail swishing behind him. “Oh-oh yeah, yeah that’ll _definitely_ help. Better than me jumping in the dark. Though…” He frowned again, looking at the others. “Uh, I didn’t really bring any kind of weapon that kills Elder Guardians quick, so-“

Tubbo was quick to pull out a trident, shimmering with enchantments and looking…honestly a little familiar to wilbur’s perspective. “It’s got Impaling on it.” He explained, handing it to Ranboo, who once again looked a little more steady on his feet. Tubbo gave the weapon a few pats. “Nicked it off Technoblade when we attacked him last, I did.”

Ranboo frowned again, this time in disappointment. “Oh. Well. At least it’s helping is brother then…”

Wilbur reached into his pockets, rummaging and-ah, yes, good, he had a feeling he’d managed to brew a few before they left. He pulled out a couple potions, handing them to the teenager. “For emergencies.” He explained. “They’re regen potions, I’d give you something with waterbreathing but I didn’t know we’d need any and-“

Ranboo gave him another smile, reassuring as he put the vials away. “It wouldn’t help me much anyway, I kinda get damage the moment I touch water so-there’s really no point.”

“Are we ready then?” Fundy interrupted, screen flashing numbers as he sent the locations to Ranboo’s communicator. “Dream’s probably figured out something’s happening, and I’d rather not give him more time than possible to prepare for an attack.”

Wilbur let out a huff, nodding to his son, saw the other two nod as well as they all took on a serious expression. “Get going Ranboo.” Wilbur ordered, stepping into a General’s role once more, and wasn’t it fucking ironic that he was once again commanding children into a battlefield? Well, two children, at least his own son was an adult. Barely.

He turned his focus to the dead ended hall, frowning at the bed that was apparently their first checkpoint. “In the meantime, we’ll have to tackle all this as quickly as we can.”

He felt Tubbo and Fundy close up ranks behind him, the two redstone bright boys ready to take on the puzzle that was Sam’s Labyrinth, while he heard Ranboo vanish with a _vwoop_ behind him.

“We’re coming for you Dream.” Fundy growled.

```

“Leave him alone Dream!” Said a voice, a new voice, a familiar voice, one that was coupled with angry flaps and the smell of feathers originating from the cell next to him. Tommy turned to the right, noted a _distinct_ bit of yellow fluff, a down feather, and he knew who it was. “ _Quackity_???”

“This doesn’t concern you.” The admin drawled, foot planted firmly on Tommy’s side, just a few angles away from leaning his whole body weight onto it.

“Why the fuck’s Quackity here Dream?” Tommy strained, ignoring his bruises, ignoring the sickening fear curling in his guts. “He not play the good soldier boy for you too?”

Dream tensed, then turned back to the other cage, deliberately relaxing his shoulders as he stepped off of Tommy’s side (he sighed in relief.) “Quackity is…a linchpin, if you will. I’m killing two birds with one stone here.” He spread his hands, mask slipping so Tommy could see the too wide grin curling on his face. “On one hand, it keeps Sam in line, on the other…It turns L’manburg against your criminal family.”

Quackity scoffed. “We don’t need _your_ help to have a reason to go against Technoblade Dream.”

“No.” Dream replied, slowly making his way to the other cage, an arm leaning against the solid obsidian wall. “But it will hasten a few things.”

He grinned then, mad eye turning back to Tommy as more of his mask slipped. “Oh, I am well aware of your father’s plans to leave the server Tommy. In fact, I welcome it!” He spread his arms, taking several steps towards the boy again, making him flinch away. “Before, things were so much better! Before, things were perfect! The server was one, there weren’t any _factions_ , any _countries_ , we all fought but it was just a game, nothing serious!” He leaned down, gripping onto jabbing a finger in Tommy’s direction. “Then your brother came. He started this, started everything. He brought conflict, brought chaos, and while I like Chaos usually I have a bit more control over it. He brought change…much like you did actually.”

He hummed to himself, standing up. “Your change was to bring attachment to the server, people started to care when you were around Tommy, myself included. That was good change, was something I could use.”

His smile fell. “All your family brought was the sort of change I couldn’t use. People turned against me, countries rebelled, is this any way for a server to be run, may I ask? I don’t think so.”

He turned away then, back towards Quackity’s cage, before he slammed the wall, making the older man squawk. “This server was given to me! It’s mine! The _Dream_ SMP, not the _Tommy_ SMP, not the _Tubbo_ SMP, and sure as fuck not the _Wilbur_ SMP!”

Tommy curled up in the nearest corner, starring at Dream, trembling, scared out of his mind.

“Dude, calm the _fuck_ down! It’s everyone’s server, not just yours!” Quackity’s angry voice came from the other cage, and Tommy could just barely see the edge of the older man’s arm through the door as he reached towards it, as if to offer comfort, safety he couldn’t give. “Just-just leave Tommy alone for a bit, alright? He’s just a _kid_ -“

Dream punched the wall again, glaring at it. “He’s NOT a just a kid! He’s a hunter! A Hunter that deserves to be given what he should’ve had all along!” He turned slowly to face Tommy again, and trembling increased. “Your family can leave Tommy, I’ve got no problem with that. But you? _You_ have to stay, while I rectify their _last_ mistake.”

“That’s straight up kidnappning Dream!” Quackity yelled, sound of wings angrily flapping from his cage. “You can’t just _do_ that! Shouldn’t Tommy have a say?!”

Dream punched the wall again, silencing the duck hybrid, though not before muttering a string of cursing in Spanish, most of which Tommy could barely translate. He wished he could, it might’ve given him a bit of pep in his step to stand up to the terrifying admin that towered over him.

“It’s time to learn Tommy.” Dream said, voice low and foreboding. “Learn where you _truly_ belong.”

Suddenly a familiar woosh cut through the air, crackling void signaling the entrance of an Enderpearl, and Dream paused to turn and look outside Tommy’s cage.

“Dream!” Came the voice of a familiar fox hybrid, an _angry_ fox hybrid if Tommy was ever to guess. Fundy stood outside the creeper gate, hind paws digging into the blackstone floor, enderpearl in one hand netherite ax in the other. “Let them go!”

A quick lobbing of a pearl had Dream leaning against the door to Tommy’s cage, a smirk of amusement on his face as he crossed his arms. “Out of all the people it could’ve been you are the _last_ person I would’ve expected Fundy. Really, how long are you planning to keep up this sham? What’s L’ _manbaby_ burg ever done for you? Taken your father? Not that he wasn’t a shit dad. And _this_ kid” He jabbed a thumb in Tommy’s Direction. “Might well have replaced you for all the attention Wilbur gave. Do you really wanna fight me over _him_?”

Fundy crushed the pearl between his claws, crackling void energy mixing in with the numbers and lightning of Code, the strings swirling around his fist like currents, his fur bristling. “Shut. Up.” He snarled, fangs barred, ears flat on his head, tail fluffed and thrashing. “You don’t know anything about me _or_ my family!”

Dream spread his arms, smile growing smug. “I know about _you_ though. Face it Fundy, you’re a traitor. Always have been, always will be.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you cut the sappy hero schtick already? It’ll never fit you.”

Fundy froze, eyes wide, brief moment of hurt flickering across his face before it fell, covered with a bitter grin instead. “You’re right Dream.” He chuckled, a hallow, broken thing that flashed Tommy straight back to Pogtopia. “You’re right! I don’t fit the hero. Never have, never will. I’ll always be a traitor.”

Then his grin grew, smug and wicked all at once. “Which means there’s just one more person I’ve got left to betray. I’d say sorry, but I’m _not_.”

Then Fundy charged, Ax meeting netherite ax, and Dream would’ve gotten the jump on him were it not for the sudden _explosion_ in his face from a summoned TNT. Fundy pressed the advantage, sending an explosion with every hit, his fangs barred in a snarl. Unfortunately Dream was still a better fighter, wearing netherite gear and chomping golden apples in between swings making the damage null and void. He slipped past Fundy’s defenses, and the fox could’ve been cleaved were it not for his thrusting out his hand, a creeper taking the fatal blow in his place before sending out another blast. Dream stumbled, seeming to trip over air and giving Fundy the time to jump back and regroup.

Making motions with his free hand, Fundy sent the strings of code in front of himself, each line spiraled like a whirlpool to form into another creeper, all turning at once to Dream and advancing.

Dream took that moment to pull out a shield, shoulders set before he dove into the fray, chopping up one creeper before blocking the explosion of the next-he seemed keen to keep the explosions to the middle of the bridge, where the components, blackstone and obsidian, were generally immune, unlike the iron on the doors of the cages.

The bridge shuddered, but the fox hybrid ignored it, instead Fundy thrust out his hand, barring fangs as numbers swirled around him, crackling with lightning. Then, Dream found himself shielded from the creepers, confusing him for a moment…

Before the space was filled with water.

At first the admin gave Fundy a look, a ‘really? This is your play?’ But when he tried to walk out of the block of water he realized he couldn’t, that he couldn’t move at all, and even if blocks _could_ break with the mining fatigue these _couldn’t_. They were invisible, impenetrable.

Barrier blocks.

Fundy cackled, lightning shooting out of his paws as he spread them. “ _Now_ do you see dream? _This_ is why you don’t mess with me! You might be an admin, might be able to outfight me, but _here_ is where I _thrive_! You can’t beat me at my own game!”

“Your game is illegal.” Dream replied, seeming to ignore the steady depletion of his air bubbles. He sighed. “I suppose if you’re going to play by _your_ rules, I’ll have to play by _mine_.” Then numbers swirled around his person, making Fundy pause.

“…Dream?” The fox called out, suddenly nervous. The lightning cackled along the admin’s body from his feet all the way up to his head, until he was glowing with it, until he was blinding.

Then Dream looked up, his facemask’s eyes widening, until two green glowing orbs of light shined through. The smile, eerie as it was above the smile underneath grew, grew until it became unnatural, then it opened into a needle toothed _grin_ , his own physical smile grinning beneath.

“My turn.” He said, before walking _through_ the barrier blocks like they didn’t exist, his feet barely touching the floor, until he was floating, walking on air, his ax resting on his shoulder as he sneered down at the fox. “You wanna play Admin so badly? Fine. We’ll play Admin.” He then started to float up, the darkness of the upper part of the prison making his eyes glow brighter as they peered down.

“Catch me if you can, _Loverboy_.”

Fundy let out a snarl, a flash of code blinding Tommy for a moment before a set of insectlike wings fluttered on his back. With a quick yank of a rocket he jumped off the ground, ax back in his hand as he chased the Admin into the darkness of the roof.

Tommy watched until the two vanished into the darkness, lightning and sparks from metallic clashes the only things he could see aside from Dream’s creepy glowing green eyes. Then footsteps drew his attention back to the ground, and suddenly Tubbo’s arm was reaching through the bars, grasping desperately for his. “Tommy!” He called out, the teenager not hesitating to grab him back, despite everything, a thousand days and a thousand pains forgotten in the relief of the moment. “Tommy are you okay?!” Tubbo cried out in worry, goat eyes widening as he took in his friend’s appearance. “Holy crap, you look terrible!”

Tommy gave a wry grin, leaning against the bars to get closer to his friend, his almost brother, his hand grasping the elder’s tighter. “Hey, it looks worse than it is, I’m a tough man yeah? I’ve had worse.”

He didn’t even notice the shadow of the taller man next to his friend, so focused was he on the reunion, but Wilbur’s sudden smack into the wall with a pickax was difficult to ignore. “We should have you out in a few moments Toms.” His brother said, all his focus carefully on the task and not on Tommy himself.

Tommy swallowed, grip on Tubbo’s hand tighter, his mind flashing back to the dreams, the flashbacks, the- “Wil, I-“

“Stay back from the door Tommy.” Came the soft order instead, interrupting him, the old general’s face resolved as he aimed the pick above his head, before slamming it down on the door, metallic screech painful but promising. The tiniest fractions of cracks grew, the weakest link discovered.

Tommy stepped back as asked, letting go of Tubbo as he watched his mentor pour all his strength into hitting the door over and over as hard as he could. His mind went back to Pogtopia, the wars, the time before the server when Wil’d fight tooth and nail to help Tommy no matter what the cost to himself. Pogtopia was awful but-

All he could think of was nights with a bit more food to spare, nights where he woke from nightmares to soft singing, that final confrontation…

‘ _It’s all a losing battle anyways, there’s no point in you to keep fighting. And yet…You still do.’_

Were they the same? Were Dream and Wilbur the same? Maybe once they had been, but now…now Tommy wasn’t sure. One was trying to do what was ‘best’ for him while the other-

“Wilbur…”

Suddenly a slam into the ground, a crackle of electricity shooting Wil’s pickax out of his hand, and Tommy rushed to the bars to see Fundy on his back _screaming_ as Dream plunged a netherite dagger straight into the palm of his hand. “Fundy!” He called out.

Dream lifted his Ax, the razor edge gleaming as it aimed above the Fox’s neck. “Guess you lost.” He said, chuckling.

But as he slammed it down a small body slammed into his side, throwing him off balance, making him cry out as a tiny horn pierced through the gap in his armor into his armpit. Dream jumped away and Tubbo did the same, his head lowered as he held a diamond sword in both hands, an angry snort coming from his nostrils. “You’re not hurting him Dream!” The child president declared.

“Tubbo!” Tommy cried out, ignoring Wilbur as he reached out as far as he could through the bars of his cage, desperately not wanting to watch his friend take on the infamous Admin. “Tubbo you can’t fight him by yourself!”

“He’s right you know.” Dream said, before angrily taking a chomp out of another golden apple. His eyes never left the satyr child’s, nor did Tubbo’s leave the Admins. He held his sword low, his hoof pawing at the ground beneath him, his head lowered so the tips of his horns aimed right at Dream’s midriff.

“Doesn’t matter if he’s right or not.” Tubbo quipped, shifting to aim his sword point at Dream’s chest. “I can’t beat you, I know that. But I don’t have to.”

“I just have to buy enough time.”

Then he charged, taking Dream off guard so he barely dodged to the side, a rip tearing into his sleeve from one of Tubbo’s horns. The danger was, of course, in the triple prong’d attack, meaning Dream had to watch for three areas of damage rather than just the usual one.

He scowled, tossing the apple core away before hefting another pearl and flinging it to Tubbo’s right, reappearing there an instant later and chopping down with his ax, grazing a hit on his shoulder.

Tubbo for his credit didn’t cry out, instead he kept up his charge, agile enough on his hooves to change direction unlike a normal steer, simply rushing at Dream at a different angle, thrashing his horns and slashing and stabbing with his sword simultaneously. It’d have looked comical if it weren’t so deadly.

Unfortunately Dream was at the top of this particular foodchain for a reason, and Tubbo never did have much stamina for combat. Quickly the Admin found an opening and dove in, hooking the sword under his ax and yanking it out of the Satyr’s hands, nearly cutting deep into Tubbo’s chest while he was at it. He then reached out with a free hand, grabbing at the teen’s neck much like he had with Tommy’s and slamming him into the wall, disarming his horns.

The teen struggled, hooved fingers desperately grasping at the arm holding him up. Dream’s smile grew sadistic as he turned one of those glowing eyes back at the cage. “So, Tommy…” He drawled, making Tommy’s breath hitch. “You wanna be a hero?”

He pressed against the door, pressed, pressed, pressed, but it wouldn’t budge, it wouldn’t _move_. “No-No Dream, please!”

“Y’know there’s normally an origin story attached to a hero.” Dream continued, not acknowledging Tommy’s begging. “Usually a tragedy of some kind.”

He lifted his ax again. “Guess we’ve found yours, haven’t we?”

Only for an arrow to shoot through the skin of his hand, the pain making him loosen his grip on the ax, but not enough for him to drop it. Then on instinct he flung himself to the side, letting Tubbo go and letting the kid take in some much needed ~~sobbing~~ breaths. Dream had no time to register however as Wilbur gave him no time to react, slashing and stabbing with his own diamond sword, his face a mask of cold infuriated _rage_.

Dream was forced onto the defense for a few moments, as the anger fueled attacks just kept coming, stab, slash, swipe, Wilbur wasn’t aiming for any vital organs, wasn’t aiming to even land a hit he was just attacking, anger and justifiable rage spurring his movements as he lead dream _away_ from one of his boys. Dream pulled up his shield, hoping to block a blow so he could get his feet back from under him, but Wilbur took the moment to kick him instead, knocking him back several paces, into the middle of the floor.

Unfortunately this gave Dream time to regain his bearings, an enderpearl appeared in his hand, then flung back towards the door they’d originally come in. Wilbur, cursing, dashed after him, only to pause as the floor shook underneath his feet, before the whole thing started to lower.

Dream laughed, long and smug, watching as Tubbo clung desperately to the edge, as Fundy was helpless with his hand pinned into the rock, mining fatigue keeping him in place, as Wilbur could only glare helplessly as they all aimed for the lava below. “Honestly what were _any_ of you hoping to accomplish?” He asked, spreading his arms out from under him. “I could’ve taken any of you out in seconds!” A snap, to emphasize. “But I didn’t. I was just _playing_ with you, wanted to show my power, how helpless you all really are!”

Wilbur clenched his fists, knuckles white, his eyes glancing briefly at the cages before barring his teeth at Dream. “You only have power because this world gives it to you. It’s not permanent, it was Entrusted! As soon as the council hears about this-“

Dream scowled, his mask scowling with him. “The council? _Really_? And what do you think they’ll do when they find out that all of the servers’ problems started with you?” He jabbed a finger in Wilbur’s direction, vitriolic hate in his words.

“Me…?” Wilbur scoffed, offended almost. “What the fuck are you talking about Dream?”

Dream’s face twisted into a petulant snarl, green eyes in the mask glowing brighter. “This server was FINE until you and YOUR FAMILY came along! _You_ brought conflict, you brought _war_! We were supposed to be united until you decided rebelling and turning people against me was a good idea!”

Wilbur gaped, then laughed, a sharp, mocking laugh as he turned away from the younger, holding arms out helplessly. “You’re still mad about the _fucking drug van?!_ That was a joke!” He quickly turned back, pointing an accusatory finger in Dream’s direction. “ _You_ chose to make it serious! You hurt the people I _love_ , killing them over and over and over again and making it _matter_! Death isn’t supposed to be permanent, isn’t supposed to _hurt_ or _last_ or **traumatize** us when it happens! _That_ is part of your _job_!”

Dream scoffed. “Oh, boo hoo, you’re poor baby citizens couldn’t handle a little _realism_ in their games. It was _war_ Wilbur!” He barked, punching a fist in his palm. “It was a _rebellion_! If you couldn’t handle a taste of the real world with real fucking consiquences you shouldn’t have stood against my authority in the first place!”

Wilbur took a step forward, nevermind the sudden heat that started to make him sweat, started to heat up under his boots. “My citizens were CHILDREN you sick son of a bitch!” He screamed, still pointing. “Children I had to protect! Children I had _responsibility_ over! We’ve played games and fought each other on plenty of servers before this one don’t you DARE tell me this is the norm! And before you start up on your _stupid_ podium again I know full the fuck well what dangers occur in the real world! _Real_ death! _Real_ consiquences! I’ve faced them all and more!” He spread his hands, mocking laughter in his voice. “So for-fucking- _give_ me for expecting a server with an admin to actually be safe from bullshit like that! Apparently not if the man is a bloody power hungry _ass_ hole!”

Dream took it all in stride, ax falling to his side, before he smirked at Wilbur’s last words. “Pretty words coming from a man that abandoned said child citizens when they needed him most.” He quipped, before holding up a wrist to his face in a false imitation of a watch. “But I feel like your time’s just about up.” He smirked, letting the arm fall. “Guess you’re about to let them all down one more time _Mr. President_.”

Wilbur’s expression fell, the heat in his boots increasing to the point of being painful as he frantically glanced around him. To his left, Fundy, pinned to the floor and helpless, whimpering and whining fox whines as he tried to take the pain in stride. To his right, Tubbo, hanging by his fingertips, hooves scrambling as he tried to find some purchase on the smooth blackstone walls, his trembling arms pointing to his strength giving out. He looked to the edge of the floor and found lava seeping over the cracks, then looked up to Tommy’s cage, so far above, so far…

“No…” He was failing them, letting them all down, letting them all die _with_ him. “Not like this.”

_Between the walls an enderman child fought viciously, ignoring the way his body dissolved, ignored the way he choked on every second. What was air to him? What was a lack of pain? He didn’t recall, didn’t remember, just focused on the numbers in his brain and stabbing whatever he happened to meet before teleporting to the next area. This particular beast was stubborn, dodging his attacks, swimming away when he was about to land a hit, but Ranboo was determined. He needed to do this, needed to kill this monster for…for what? Why was he putting himself through this? He didn’t remember, but he didn’t remember a lot of things, and whatever he did remember made him believe what he was doing was right. So he stabbed, slashed, then caught the beast in the eye, cringing at it’s screeching death cries as it dissolved in the water._

_Must like he dissolved._

_With a screech he vanished, not knowing where he’d end up, just hoping for someplace **dry**. He hoped he’d accomplished something. _

“GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR BITCH!!!” A smash of an enderpearl beside him was the only warning Dream had before he had six feet of angry teenager swiping at him with a pickax, one he’d picked up when Wilbur’d dropped his, one he’d managed just in time to break the door with when the mining fatigue vanished, one which he intended very strongly to stab into Dream’s chest the second he could. It wasn’t the best weapon, and Tommy was malnourished and weak still both from exile and from a day in Dream’s keeping, but his ferocity wasn’t to be underestimated. Like his brother he gave Dream no time to react, simply slashed and hacked and kicked, his attacks flailing rather than calculated, driven by pure adrenaline.

Dream carefully backed away from the advance, mindful of the precarious position that they were in. The maneuverability was limited now with the narrow ledge and a few blocks in front of the door being the only stable steps. He could only bring up his ax to block, hands tight to prevent Tommy from disarming him with the hook of the pickaxe. He thrust forward, hoping to knock Tommy over the edge, but the boy’s quick reflexes utilized the blade of the ax and the curve of the pickaxe to instead create a makeshift swing, allowing him to hurtle himself back onto stable ground again, this time behind dream, landing right by the door and the switch that controlled the floor.

With a smug smile tommy flipped the switch, saving his family from the lava.

Dream snarled, charging, this time lifting his sword in his other hand to hit tommy with a double pronged attack, first a chop with the axe, then a slash with his sword. Tommy hadn’t much room to move but he utilized the unique curve of the pickax to deflect both blows, managing to hook around the base of Dream’s sword and yanking it to the floor. Dream scoffed, he preferred his axe anyway, and instead he took the momentary lack of Tommy’s guard to grab at the elongated handle of the pickaxe, yanking it to the side and kicking Tommy’s feet right from under him. The boy, still weak after all the abuse he had endured fell, landing with Dream’s hand on his weapon and his axe aimed at his throat.

Sighing in frustration and relief Dream yanked the pick from Tommy’s hand, tossing it over the ledge before using that hand to pull up the screen of his communicator. “Well, this has all been…entertaining.” The last word said with more than a bit of anger and irritation, but Dream kept his pleasant smile all the while. “I think it’s about time to wrap this up though, don’t you? Punz. I need help with a cleanup.”

Static noises sounded from the communicator instead, Punz’s choppy words being the only things understood. “Dre….can’t…attack….TNT ev.ry…where….hel…p.”

Dream frowned, waving his hand through the holo screen as he tried to get a better signal. Was it something new Sam’d put into the prison? “Punz? What’s happening?”

Then the world started to warp.

Flickering static shot through the blocks around them, some vanishing momentarily, a grunt of pain from Tubbo, though not fatal, showed the blocks weren’t just vanishing visually. Dream glanced around, frowning in a panic as he watched the world he’d carefully cultivated, birthed with his own will, start to break down around him. Numbers started to crawl up the walls, flickering in and out through cracks in the rock and code.

“What…?” He started, confused anger seeping into his words, a snarl growing on his face. He turned down to level a glare at Tommy, pointing his ax down at him. “This is _your_ fault, isn’t it! You and your stupid family-well I’m not having it anymore! This is my server and if you can’t play by the rules-!”

Pain, a bolt grazing the back of his head making him cry out, harmless with his helmet but enough to make his ears ring. Giving a feral growl he turned to the culprit only to spot the ex president’s satisfied smirk as he wielded his precious crossbow between both hands. “ **You** -“ He began-

Then another pain, sharper, colder, cutting through his midriff. His snarl faded into one of shock as he looked down at himself only to spot the tip of his own netherrite sword jutting out from his stomach. Such a blow meant that it was angled to cut through the uneven gaps between chestplate and leggings, difficult in most cases, impossible for most people, but for those bred and trained to combat…

He laughed, wet and sardonic, hand curling around the edge of the tip sticking out his gullet, blood filling his mouth and making it hard to breath, dribbling out his lips. “Guess that proves me right.” He said, voice watery, coldness seeping out to his limbs, when _was_ the last time he’d died? It’d been so many years. “I hope you remember this Tommy.”

Then he turned to the teenager, bloody teeth in a wide, feral grin pointedly making a terrifying sight that Tommy’d never forget. “ _This_ is who you _are_.”

Then his body dissolved, not without leaving bloodstains, the sword clacking metallically onto the ground as the whirrs of the machines lifting the floor suddenly came to a stop. Tommy fell to his knees, covered in blood himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen death, even bloody death, Ghostworlds and their lack of respawn mechanics meant he had plenty of time to see such things in younger years than this, but to know that he’d _caused_ this one…

He swallowed, reached out to take Dream’s sword for his own (if only for the brief pleasure of claiming his rightful loot despite knowing he couldn’t keep it outside the server), held it reverently for a few moments, his mind too twisted to really delve, before he was bricktackled by a musky scented satyr child who clung and clung and clung to him like he was afraid to never let go.

“You did it Tommy!” Tubbo proclaimed, nuzzling his nose into the blond’s hair, his little tuft of a tail wagging. “You killed Dream! You _finally_ killed him!”

Tommy stood there, still in shock, still processing, but Tubbo’s words finally got through to him, making him slowly smile an uncertain smile as it hit. “I…I did. Didn’t I?” Then his smile grew ten sizes, showing all his teeth as he stood (or attempted to stand) up to his full height. “I did it! I killed Dream! Haha!” He jabbed a finger at the bloodstain. “SUCK IT GREEN BITCH!”

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Tubbo jumped to his hooves, cheering beside him, hands raised in triumph as both friends bounced in place together, Tommy still holding onto the hard one sword of Nightmare. Their cheeks were aching with how long they were grinning.

“H-hey, not that I’m not happy he’s gone and all, but can somebody help me up? Please?” Came the strained voice of Fundy, still pinned by his palm sacrificial style, his fur looking slightly singed, his ears losing a bit of their usual tufts, showing scorched scales underneath.

Wilbur quickly rushed over to his son’s side to help him, before the angry cursing of mixed Spanish and English origin cut through everyone’s attention.

“CAN’T I GET A LITTLE HELP HERE?!” Quackity screeched, feathers fluffed up and losing most of their fringe, his arms gripping tightly to the bars of his cage.

“Oh shit-sorry Quackity!” Tubbo apologized, before both boys went to the cage, grabbing Wilbur’s pick along the way as the man was preoccupied with checking over the fox.

Quickly they got him out, only to note his appearance. The duck hybrid wasn’t too roughed up, just shaken, with a nasty bruise on the side of his head. “Hey Tommy, good job on finally killing that bastard!” He cheered, now that he was free he was more than willing to give the boy a hug and join in on the celebrations. “How’d you even get an enderpearl anyway? I know I didn’t come in with any items, and if you’d had some earlier you would’ve used them on Dream during all-uh…” He trailed off, side eyeing Tubbo and Wilbur, who was carrying a drained Fundy across his shoulders.

“That-that would be me.” Said the coughing voice of one Enderman hybrid, currently laying on the ground outside Tommy’s cage, propped up on the wall.

“Oh shit, Ranboo!” Tommy cried out, rushing over to his friend, his face turning green at the state of him.

Ranboo was half a man now, his left leg half gone, the edges ragged and dissolved, green blood seeping out of the wound. His right eye was also missing, bloody red gash left in the stump, but he was smiling all the while, proud despite patches of skin and clothes scraped away from his long exposure to the water. “It’s okay guys.” He coughed again. “I-I’ve had worse…”

“Ranboo! Oh no…” Tubbo fretted, landing on his knees in front of his friend, the responsibility of President still hitting heavily on his shoulders. “We need to get you to a hospital or something! Or-potions! Wilbur do you have any spare potions?” Tubbo turned to the eldest, frowning in worry.

Wilbur, already ahead of the boy, was rummaging in his satchels before giving a sigh of relief as he pulled out one of deep crimson, smiling in satisfaction as he noted the strength. “I have a few instant health’s, but only a few. We should give them to him before taking him to somewhere safer so he can rest and, hopefully, regrow.” He frowned in concern as he looked at the Enderteen, he hadn’t realized the damage the water would DO, maybe killing him and resetting the damage would be better.

But Ranboo held out a hand for the pot, so Wilbur gave it to him, turning away as he downed it all in only a few gulps. His eyes met Tommy’s then, for a moment, both feeling suddenly awkward and wondering where they stood.

“So…you finally killed him.” Wilbur said, always one to be better with words, voice cautious as he broke the ice, face carefully neutral.

A beat, Tommy giving his brother that same carefully impassive expression, and it’d have been impressive and funny if it weren’t so dire. Then a grin broke out on his face, more somber than celebratory, but still filled with an underlying glee of euphoria. “Yeah…yeah I did.”

Wilbur smiled then, reaching out a hand to-hesitantly-grasp onto the teenager’s shoulder. “Good.” He said, voice firm and confident and with no room for doubt, for killing Dream at least was a _good_ thing, and they both knew it. “I’m proud of you.”

Tommy blinked rapidly, sky blue eyes growing wet, his smile wavering for a moment. “Wilbur-“ He said, voice holding a fragile quality to it, but not a sad one, and even as Wilbur braced himself for the embrace he half hoped and half dreaded would come a ping from his communicator stalled him. He turned away, keeping his hand on Tommy, partially afraid he’d lose track of him again, and with a wave of his hand pulled up his communicator.

**Technoblade was banned**

“What…?” Tommy asked, his own communicator screen pulled up under his hand, the others noting similar voices of confusion. It was only a beat before Wilbur realized what was going on.

“Shit.” He breathed, grip on Tommy’s shoulder growing tighter, and he spared a brief moment of apology in his mind as Tommy automatically tensed under the gesture. “He’s acting already, we don’t have much time-“

**Philza was banned**

“Tommy!” Fundy’s words called out, still full of pain, but the fox hybrid was pointing to the now open door of the prison. Steps, rhythmic on blackstone and obsidian echo’d along the walls, then two glowing green lights shined out in the dark, and Tommy’s whole body started to shudder.

“N-no, his spawn-“ Tubbo rambled, hovering over the prone Ranboo, his hand shakily grasping back onto his sword. Did they have enough in them to fight again? Could they distract him long enough to escape?

**Wilbur Soot was banned**

Tommy’s breath hitched at the message, his eyes lifting to meet Wilbur’s, the unshed tears finally falling down his cheeks. “Wil-Wil no!” He called out, voice broken, mind going back to the caves in Pogtopia, to watching his brother bleed out in his arms. He reached out, grasped the hand that held his shoulder, unable to stop shaking.

Wilbur felt helpless, felt his whole body start to fray at the edges, until cracks formed, painless but for an uncomfortable pressure that started at his core. “Tommy-Tommy it’s okay.” He tried to reassure, leaning closer to his brother, other hand reaching out to cup the blond’s cheek. He tried for a smile, but it felt forced, it felt scared, as parts of him started to _break off_ and vanish into the air.

“No, no, _please_!” Tommy sobbed, before pushing forward and wrapping his brother’s torso in his arms, burying his face into his shoulder, even as he felt Wilbur start to dissolve in his grasp. “Don’t- _don’t leave me again you bastard_!” He cried.

But it was too late, in that moment and the next Wilbur was gone, just fragments of code vanished into the wind.

And all the while those methodical steps kept coming, a scrape of metal on stone added as Dream dragged his ax alongside him. The others could only watch, helpless, as Tommy sobbed and held himself as he lost not only his brother but his whole family as well. They were supposed to leave together, not be separated like this. Never like this.

Dream paused in front of the five, fully armored with ax and enderpearl in hand, smirking below his glowing eye’d mask. “Well, this was fun!” He chirped, ignoring the bristled glare everyone but Tommy managed to give him. They were all tired, weak, still injured from the damages he’d done to them, not even Ranboo could manage a teleport without his eye in his socket. He let out a dark chuckle. “I think it’s time for your friends to go Tommy, it was a nice playdate, but now it’s over.”

He then frowned, stood up to his full height, once more the intimidating figure from Logstedshire that haunted Tommy’s dreams. “Now, _get back in the cage_.”

“I’ll put you back in your cage you-“ Quackity began, releasing another string of spanish as he stood, ready to fight Dream tooth and talon, his wings spread as he stepped forward, a hissing sound coming from his throat in rage.

But Fundy stepped, rather stumbled, in front of him first.

The fox’s hands were still bleeding, but he was grinning, ears held back as he barred the full of his fangs in Dream’s direction. He knew he was fucked, knew they were all fucked, but he’d be damned if he let Dream win this one.

“No Dream. I think it’s _you_ Tommy’s done playing with.” He stated, numbers, flickering and crimson with the blood from his palms that were still bleeding, the sparks hurt and it was harder to control, but he was nothing if not adaptive. “It’s time for him to go home.”

Dream scowled, pointing his ax in the fox’s direction. “Tommy _is_ home Fundy. And you’re too weak to do anything about it.”

Fundy’s smile grew wry, amused even, and he snorted. “See, that’s what I mean about always underestimating me. You’ve never given me a chance, none of you have.” Then he turned to Tommy, the traumatized teenager that he’d always seen more as a brother rather than an uncle. He could do this at least, for him.

“I’m sorry Tommy. I promise we’ll find you again.”

**TommyInnit was banned.**

“No…” Tommy breathed, his eyes automatically going back to Tubbo, who was giving him just as much of a shocked expression. The two boys reached out for each other, but Tommy’s body rapidly started to break, cracks like a broken mirror crawled over his skin, painless but disturbing, even as flecks started to fly away from him, leaving him shattered, broken and fractured where he stood. “Tubbo!”

“Tommy!” Tubbo called out, just barely brushing his fingers against Tommy’s hand, before that too shattered, dissolved into the air, following the rest of the boy’s body, his eyes fixated on the Satyr’s goat eyes.

“Goodbye Tommy.” Tubbo said, voice hitched as tears fell down his tufted cheeks.

“Goodbye Tubbo.” Tommy replied, tears falling down his cheeks, fear and anger and frustration all warring themselves in his chest. Where would he go after this? What was going to happen to him? But Fundy’s promise stilled the panic in his heart and he furrowed his brows, squared what little shoulders he had left. “I’ll see you again! I promise!”

A tiny smile flickered over Tubbo’s lips, his ears doing a little flick, flick that showed both amusement and fondness for those that knew him. “Yeah, yeah, same to you! Good luck!”

Then Tommy fractured, cast out of the SMP by his nephew, never to see the cruel Admin’s land’s again.

To worlds unknown, and onto the next adventure.

To healing…and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this in three. Two. One....!
> 
> Lol I hope y'all enjoyed. Minecraft PVP isn't something I'm familiar with so I apologize for how shit it was. Bleck. I wanted everyone to shine and they got it, sort of. Does this feel final boss-y enough? I hope so. I wanted it to have a final bossfight feel. 
> 
> Also Tommy is instinctively good at fighting, which is the ONLY way he was able to fight off Dream despite being hungry and still weak from his time in exile and being beaten to a PULP by Dream earlier. Tubbo's fighting style will also show a reappearance, but with someone else. ;D Wilbur's the weakest fighter out of his family, but he was pissed, and preferred to take potshots for most of the battle instead (in true Wilbur fashion lol.) I imagine he has the best aim out of his family. 
> 
> Fundy's bit was very hard and very annoying because how the FUCK do you weaponize coding??? It caused me no end of trouble, I had to research all of his mods for it. 
> 
> Anyways hope y'all enjoyed. (sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger)


	7. Child of my heart, run free

When Tommy awoke next it was to a groggy as fuck headache and the utter and complete feeling that he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a fucking month. He shifted, then felt the oddest sensation of hard metallic shards beneath his body-

And instantly flailed, getting cut on more than one or two of them, but fortunately due to the fact that they had blunt edges this wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Eventually he found a grip, supposedly from the box that said pile had been in, and he toppled over and fell flat on his face soon as he pulled himself out.

He groaned, but at least he was out of the fucking box.

“You okay mate?” Laughed a familiar voice, a voice that made Tommy’s breath hitch but he stuffed it down, instead he looked up to meet his father, who was not only looking less worse for wear but actually energized, his wings big and proud and with a huge happy grin on his face as he helped his youngest son up off the ground.

Figures, Phil was never happier than when he was committing a war crime.

“He finally awake?” Drawled the voice of Techno, who’d been leaning against what looked like the door out of this place, which considering all the shelves covered in junk and boxes filled with random assortments of junk could be reasonably guessed to be a storage room. His eyes glared out the singular window in the iron door, his claws were covered in dried blood, but only bits of it, the rest of his clothes looked charred and slashed, like he’d been in an extended battle.

Of course, naturally, he barely looked winded. Their part in the plan had been of little risk to ones such as them. Distraction and destruction, their two favorite games.

He on the other hand could’ve seen better days, and he stumbled in Phil’s grip, stomach still rumbling loudly and mouth dry as a post-when had he managed to eat last? When he’d had breakfast the morning before? Two mornings before? Time had seemed so nonexistant in that prison that Tommy wasn’t sure if it had only been a day or a whole week.

Philza gave a small smile at the audible complaints of his stomach, his hands resting on either side of his cheeks. “Easy buddy.” He said softly, before his smile faded a bit. “I think the first order of business should be to get you somewhere where you can rest and eat, you’ll not be much fit for travel otherwise.”

“I think the first order of business should be to see who’s on security detail actually, as well as what hub we’ve ended up in.” Drawled Wilbur, who’d been busy freeing himself from his own box, a few bits of fabric cleaning desperately to his person. He scowled, then his scowl softened as he glanced at Tommy before turning to Technoblade. “How’s it looking?”

“S’a market it seems.” Techno answered, crossing his hooves along his chest. “Mixed worlds, admins coming in and out to check the latest mods, supplies to fix up worlds that might be glitched.” He snorted. “Could be dangerous to just walk in without disguises.”

“Well, fortunately we’ve got plenty of material here.” Wilbur answered chipperly, gesturing to the fabrics and various knickknacks in the room they’d been ejected into after the ban. Tommy carefully examined him, he didn’t look great, but he didn’t look in too poor condition either. He hadn’t fought Dream long, and the exit out of the SMP meant that he no longer had the fatigue of the resurrection weighing on his person. Wilbur was, in every way, fully and completely alive, and with the strength as if he’d always been. Resetting his code like that could work wonders honestly.

“And not only that…” Wilbur continued, before reaching into a hidden pocket in his sweater, a smug smirk growing on his face as he pulled out a circular obsidian disk. A design was inlaid into it in pearly quartz, a familiar, unique design, one that Tommy hadn’t seen since he and Wilbur had starting joining servers that were a bit more hybrid friendly.

A weasel with a knife clutched in its fangs, fire flickering along its claws, its tail twisting behind it, also lined in flames.

“We always have plan B.” He finished.

Techno gave him a flat look, but snorted, rolling his eyes before stepping away from the door to help Phil and him find suitable costumes to hide their appearances, not just due to the hybrid status of course, but for the fact that Phil himself was wanted in over a hundred districts for his crimes alone, and Techno, while esteemed as a fighter, wasn’t well loved in several.

Eventually they found a way to hide Philza’s wings and Techno’s appearance, all four of them apprehensive as they looked out into the crowd through the door’s window.

“It looks like a marketplace.” Tommy mentioned, unhelpfully.

He felt a hand ruffle his hair and scowled, only for that scowl to fade as he saw that Wilbur had been the one to do it. Though his irritation stilled, and a small, tentative warmth started in his chest at the sight of his for once happy and confident brother, who smiled brightly down at him, a mischievous look in his eyes that was also familiar, and more than comforting.

He was back…his brother was finally _back_.

“All the more reason for us to blend in without notice, no?” Wilbur chuckled, before placing a hand at Tommy’s back and leading him out the door. “Seems like a perfect place to restock and supply while we think of our next plans, yeah?”

“A new home.” Philza sighed, though he grinned. “But I won’t be opposed to seeing the sights along the way.”

“Just so long as those sights include rearming ourselves, I don’t really care.” Techno growled, wary eyes to either side as he too stepped through the door, but with a small smile on his lips, a relieved set to his shoulders.

Tommy could relate, he too was nervous, it’d been years since they’d traversed the hub worlds and Ghost worlds, years since they’d passed both the SMPE and the DREAMSMP, so he felt a little out of his element, not to mention rusty.

But there was an excitement under his skin, one that made him want to bounce in place, one that was only slightly tethered by Wilbur’s hand at his back, his support a constant presence that Tommy was both hyper aware of out of nerves and a need for the familiar reassurance.

The market spread out before them, with thousands of gates to new worlds and new sights, hundreds of market stalls lining those with various out of world goodies that admins could use to supplement their own generated worlds, mods and gadgets and new commands that were being discovered every single day.

In short, it smelled of adventure, and to Tommy, it was the sweetest, most liberating thing.

He was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;D


End file.
